Haters Make Me Famous
by teB360
Summary: Light Yagami fell head-first into a world completely new to him; one filled with sex, drugs and rock 'n roll which took his small-time band 'Kira' by a storm!  Not if other rising stars have anything to say about it.  AU yaoi hetero
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, teB here! I'm so excited about this story! Just a warning though, it may be riddled with lyrics, but only where it fits. I have my best friend to thank for helping me out with the summary, Ambie-Lee-Smiley-Chanx3 (Thankyou Amber :3) and Blood On The Dance Floor's lyrics actually gave me the title from their song "I'ma monster"!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note in any way because I'm not the humans who created it! (Because I'm not human! Mwahahah)  
>I do not own any of the songs used unless I state that I wrote them… But I really can't write songs for crap, anyway so I wouldn't be expecting anything like that, if I were you!<br>Songs used are:  
>"Thick" by Tonic,<br>"Break My Fall" by Breaking Benjamin. **

**LOOK THEM UP ON YOUTUBE! :D **

_Time Table_

_Period One: Advanced English, room 42_

_Period Two: Advanced Arithmetic's, room 88_

_Period Three: Creative Writing, 27_

17 year old Light Yagami scrunched his eyebrows together as confusion marred his features. "Wait- I didn't choose 'Creative Writing' as a subject, this year…" He murmured, before neatly folding his new time table and placing it inside his pocket.

He'd only arrived here about five minutes before, so that gave him plenty of time to go and sort it out with his year adviser and change that subject to something else – perhaps to advanced science?  
>'Creative Writing' was basically story-writing and poetry; despite the ease and flow he could string words together to make even the ugliest sounding word sound beautiful, he wasn't interested. It was a subject for slackers, he believed, and Light Yagami was no slacker; he knew that for sure.<p>

He forced himself not to grumble about it or even let a single sign of annoyance flash in his expression, even for the shortest of seconds. He didn't want to be bothered by people stopping him to ask him what the matter was, like people usually did if he accidently let his calm composure slip – mostly when he felt like tearing someone's head off. It was a pain he didn't need, but it wasn't his fault that he was so known and loved within the campus of his school grounds by everybody who attended. They were just drawn to him without reason, or that's what he liked to tell people at least.

Light Yagami took very good care of his appearance - spending an hour and a half every morning showering with hot soapy water, styling his hair, and checking his complexion to make sure it was clear and healthily coloured. Sometimes he even plucked away any stray hairs around his eyebrows to make sure they had that perfect arch that never failed to bring his eyes out – making them look wider and more innocent. If all of that meant getting up earlier than most of those who lived in his area, then it was worth it- at least for all the attention he got at school from both girls _and_ boys!

He gently knocked on the hard, wooden, dark purple door of the teacher's staffroom, making sure the noise wasn't too loud or too quiet. Momentarily as he waited patiently outside the door, the door opened wide with a teacher holding a steaming cup of coffee.

"Ah, Yagami-san!" She greeted with a smile. Light fake-smiled at her just to be polite.

"Good morning, Sanami-sensei." He greeted back, only to receive a wider grin from the thin, bony teacher.

After a few prolonged seconds of an awkward silence whilst being stared at by a doting teacher, Light cleared his throat. "Is the year advisor in?" He asked, breaking Sanami-sensei out of her blank-trance.

"Oh, yes, of course!"

Seconds later, another teacher appeared by the doorway. "Ah, Yagami-Kun!" He greeted.

"Matsuda-sensei," Light nodded as he pulled his time-table from his pocket and carefully unfolding it to show him his problem. "There seems to have been a mistake with my time-table. I've been enrolled into the 'Creative Writing' class by accident when I chose another class, instead."

Matsuda reached over for Light's timetable and he handed it to him more than willingly. The teacher studied the small-print on the sheet of paper and nodded. "Yeah, you've definitely got it." An awkward chuckle riveted out of him before his dark eyes darted over the student with a tight smile. "Well, we can't really change it because that would be a bit of an inconvenience. We'd need to make a completely new time table for you and possibly even change over your other classes because most of the ones on here clash with the ones that aren't. That would mean that instead of _Advanced English,_ you'd be moved down to _General_ and with _Arithmetic's… _I think that may be on the same line as _Applied Mathmatics_ – that subject doesn't actually give you credit for your _ATAR, _unfortunately."

_ATAR_ was your general score points that can get you into university if the numbers were high enough and Light wanted more than anything to get into a good college after highschool.

The teen resisted the urge to twitch his eye as frustration suddenly slithered its way inside of him and tightened around his head. He knew that a vein in his temple was swelling prominently and he was glad that his hair was long enough to hide it. He took a deep breath to calm his composure.

"So there isn't any other way…?" He grasped for that last card in his stack almost pathetically but he tried not to let it show.

"I'm sorry, Yagami-kun. _Creative Writing_ isn't actually that bad – I should know, I teach it, and it _does_ add to your _ATAR._ It's your best bet and it's a lot of fun, too!"

_Yeah, you would know._ The teen growled in his mind. _I bet it's a lot of fun with a bumbling idiot such as yourself._ He sighed and let a smile crawl across his lips. "Oh, alright. I never said it'd be bad, I was just hoping that this year I could try science out, is all."

Matsuda grinned widely at him. "Oh science? _Pfft, _who needs it!" He laughed. "Maybe you'll get it next year?"

Next year he was graduating year twelve and he couldn't wait until he did. Already he was sick of the immature idiots that attended Daikoko Academy (Private school, _of course_) and couldn't wait to start at the university he'd been intending to go to – To-Oh Uni. Maybe the people there aren't so foolish, such as _this_ guy was. But, he needed to deal with these people for two more years and then he was out of there forever.

Light had spent the day in dread as another hour came, followed by another and then another, until the time came where he now had to attend the 'Creative Writing' class. He _really_ didn't want to go, but he was definitely _not_ going to ditch it. That would blemish his perfect school-attendance record. He was going to stick it out like a man, he decided.  
>But hell, maybe he was putting up all this fuss for nothing? Maybe Matsuda was right (<em>for once)<em> – creative writing might not be that bad?

He stood by the doorway of the classroom, taking a breath before pushing the door open. _It's not going to be _that_ bad! _His thoughts whirred, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

The door swung open with a loud creak which put a crack in the silent atmosphere and every student in the room turned their heads and stared at him. Students that were covered in piercings, tattoos, and some people who's hair was dyed in ridiculous colours that were against the school's regulations, all cracked grins when they caught sight of 'Mr. Popular', probably entering the wrong classroom. Light felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead as he scanned through the seats, finding about 4 empty ones towards the back and one at the front and then skimmed his eyes around, looking for at least one person in his group of 'friends' (not that they really _were_ his friends) but there was nobody.

He immediately slammed shut the door, and leaned against it in the cool hallway, taking a deep breath. This _cannot_ be the right classroom! Quickly, he tore his timetable out of his pocket and pulled it open.

_Period Three: Creative Writing, room 27_

He stepped back from the door, turning around as he did and layed his eyes upon the golden number nailed on the light blue painted door.

_27_

"Oh shit." He cursed.

"Ah, Light-kun!" A voice called out cheerily as it echoed down the long stretch of the hallway.

The teen turned in the direction the voice came from to see Matsuda waving at him frantically. The teen inwardly groaned as the man approached him.

"I'm not too late, am I?" He fumbled a large, heavy looking folder around in his arms, somehow managing to pull his sleeve down to check his watch.

"No, I just got here. Everyone else is inside." Light noticed he sounded more grudging then what he wanted to make clear, but felt slightly relieved when he realised Matsuda obviously hadn't noticed when he grinned at him.

"Would you mind opening the door for me?" He asked.

So without word, Light pulled it open only to get glances from everyone in the classroom, again. They were all a bunch of feral looking kids and he didn't want to risk sitting in the front row with his back turned to the bunch – he'd be completely vulnerable and wouldn't know what's coming. The safer option would be to sit at the back. He'd be able to duck in time if someone decides it's a good idea to start shooting spitballs at him. Yes, these type of people were _that_ immature.

Matsuda greeted the class as he sat at the front desk the very same time Light shifted to the back corner to find a battered table covered in knife carvings of names nobody cares about and certain words he barely knew existed. What _were_ these animals? _Public_ school kids?

"Good morni- er, afternoon, class. My name is Matsuda and I'm going to be your teacher for this year!" He dropped his folder on the table with a loud thud. "So, I've introduced myself, how about the rest of you have a turn?" He smirked at the class as a thunder of groans echoed inside the small room. He already knew most of their names and faces anyway, and they knew him, too.  
>The teacher eyed around the room and stopped in the very same corner that Light had been seated in.<p>

_No! Not me, these people already know who I am!_ Light slammed his head on the desk which echoed out a small thud and placed his hands on top.

"How about you?" Matsuda continued.

There was a screech that creaked out from the bottom of the seat of the guy in front of him before a cool brush of air met his way.

"My name is Mikami. Mikami Teru." A voice greeted and immediately Light shot his head up from the cold table. He knew that name from somewhere, he was sure.  
>There was a teen towering above him with long, jet black hair and broad shoulders, Light noted as those were the only features he could see of his, from behind.<p>

"Do you have any hobbies, Mikami-Kun? Is it ok if I say 'kun'?"

"Of course." The boy replied a bit stiffly. "My hobbies consist of studying, playing chess and writing poetry."

A few of the kids from a few desks over snickered loudly. Mikami didn't even bother to spare them a glance… _Hunh_. That's kind of… mature…. Note; _Kind _of_._

"Uh, Mikami-kun, studying isn't actually a hobby… Do you play any instruments? _I play bass guitar…._" Matsuda supplied.

Mikami's fists clenched. "Well, I treat studying like a hobby." More sniggers and giggles. "May I _sit_ now?" Without even waiting for an answer, he sat down anyway.

Matsuda frowned and left his eyes from the glaring teenager before landing them upon a blonde girl sitting by the window staring at the sky. "How about you? I've never seen you here, before…."

The girl glanced at him with large, clear blue eyes which nearly seemed unnatural. They were rimmed with thick black eye-pencil and her hair was a pale sort of blonde that in the right light, it could nearly be white. It didn't help with how pallid her skin was looking, but it could most likely have been makeup. She smiled sweetly at him with ruby red lips before sliding out of her seat. Her school shirt had two undone buttons which revealed a black collar around her neck and a bit of cleavage. Her school tie was lazily done and she was missing her blazer.

Matsuda nearly seemed to be drooling because of her _hotness,_ and everybody knew it. Before she realised why he completely went blank once his eyes landed upon her, he managed to snap out of it. _I must _not_ do that again! She's a student!_ He could have smacked that heavy folder on his desk across his face.

"My name is Amane Misa. I play the drums and I've been drumming since I was eleven."

"Hello, Amane-chan! Welcome to the academy!"

She gave him an odd look by knitting her fine eyebrows close together. Matsuda nearly fainted because of how cute she looked doing –_ SNAP OUT OF IT, TOUTA! SHE'S A STUDENT!_

"I'm not new, here!" She began to laugh gently behind her hand. "I've just spent so much time in the detention room, nearly no one knows me!"

_Oh god…._ Light groaned. He didn't know half the people in here because they were all regulars in the detention room as well, and he _really_ did _not_ want to mix with these people! They were bad news – what would the 'popular' group think if they saw him with these people? What would his father think? No, it'd be ok. If he was seen, he could talk his way out of it, he's got the skills to do that! And no one can resist his charm – he's hot and he knows it – he's charismatic – _everybody _loves him!

"So you're a drummer? Are you in a band?" Matsuda continued politely.

"No, but I'd like to form one! So far it's only me. I need a singer – a good one, I can do backups – , an electric guitarist, a lead guitarist – but I'm good with only one guitarist for now – and a bassist!"

"I play bass!" The teacher added happily before any thought registered in his mind. _SHUT UP, TOUTA! DO YOU _WANT_ TO GET FIRED?_

"Yeah… I know…" Misa sat down quietly as a blush formed across the teacher's cheeks.

_Idiot._ Light thought. _Do you _want_ to get fired? _He could tell that Matsuda was fawning over her, despite her being an underage _student._ _What a fool._

"Uh, how about you, Yagami-kun, introduce yourself!" He quickly snapped as the sound of nervousness became prominent within his speech.

_No need. You've done it for me, you retard._ Light got up anyway. "My name is Yagami Light. I was put into this class by mistake, but I've decided that I want to try it out anyway." He lied. "My hobbies include playing sports such as tennis and soccer in my free time. I love reading mystery novels, but I normally figure out who the bad guy is before the book finishes anyway." He paused in wait for a chuckle or a laugh, but there was dead silence. He sat down awkwardly. His friends in the 'popular' group always laughed at all of his jokes….

The class felt like it dragged on forever. Light spent most of his time counting the scratches and deep gashes that were gouged into the table. There was no point in even attempting his work because, well… It _wasn't_ work. They were simple exercises that were supposed to help him learn about himself – his personality, his character flaws, whatever. It was ridiculous.

This really _was_ a slacker class.

When the bell finally rang, Light immediately got up, packing up whatever few items he needed for that pathetic excuse of a class inside of his bag and he made a move to be the first out of the door, but as he tried, he was shoved around by the other students with ridiculously coloured hair and excessive piercings!

The archway soon cleared with only a few more students still in the room. Matsuda, naturally, was supposed to be the last to leave so he, too, was still in there. As Light was making his way through the doorway, he felt somebody grab onto his shoulder. He suddenly pulled himself back and turned around to see that short blonde girl that Matsuda was drooling over at the start of class.

"Yagami-san, right?" She started.

Light nodded. "Amane-san, right?" Of course that was right. Light remembered everyone's names and faces – he never forgot anything.

"I just wanted to tell you that you have a nice voice. Are you a singer?" She asked.

She was trying to recruit him to that stupid band she mentioned before, he knew it. "Oh, me? No, I don't." He (fake) laughed. All he really wanted to do was leave.

Misa smiled back at him, buying that laugh like it was candy. "Oh, well you got me fooled."

_Oh, if only you knew the irony of that statement…. If only….._ Light bit back a smirk.

"Sorry about that, I know you're looking for band members and everything but if I _could_ sing, I'd love to join…" That was a lie. He wasn't actually that bad of a singer – he'd won several karaoke contests before in the past – but he wouldn't join her band even if his life depended on it.

Misa's lips thinned into a ruby red line as she continued to stare at him. "I bet you _can_ sing. You just don't want to join."

_Fuck. Go AWAY! _"No, I'm being honest, I really cannot sing! I sound like a drowning cat!"

"Right, whatever you say, liar. I'm watching you, though." With a slight smile, she left the classroom.

"She's cute, isn't she?" Matsuda _giggled._

Light twitched his left eye before turning around. "Yeah, kinda, but she's not my type. She dresses like she wants to get laid." And with that, he left, not even noticing the sudden dark red blush that adorned his teacher's cheeks.

When he got home, the first thing he did was drop his bag on the floor and sit at his desk seat, leaning back and closing his eyes with a sigh. Such a long day…. After a few moments, he pulled out his study notebook and turned the radio on, listening to the song that played on a low volume:

"_My love, she dreams_

_And she sleeps with broken faces inside_

_Cold water, runs deep_

_When she sleeps with broken faces"_

The music genre was rock and the sounds of guitars and bass and the soft singing voice hummed on as Light flicked open the pages of his notebook, finding a few things written down for algebra, some for modern history and some for advanced English. Some of the notes were mixed with those from last year, but the book was still fairly new.

Light tapped his fingers along to the tune against his desk. He was glad that he could have this evening to himself, listening to the type of music he secretly loved. If his 'friends' found out that anybody in their group liked this type of music, they'd exclude that person and make him or her hang out with the metalheads', the loners or the losers.  
>Heh, they'd love to be in <em>his<em> company.  
>Light smirked to himself. Most of those 'popular' people wouldn't even be 'popular' if it weren't for him. He was too good looking to be kicked out, anyway. They all loved him and all the girls wanted to date him even though they knew he was taken.<p>

Kiyomi Takada was his steady girlfriend and they'd been dating for about three months. He wasn't really that serious about the relationship – in fact he didn't really like her that much. He wasn't sure if she actually liked him, either. She was too refined to show any emotion like that in public, which was pretty much the only thing about her that Light didn't mind. But Kiyomi was too much like Light, personality-wise. She was smart and good looking. She was the most popular girl at school and all the boys fawned over her. She didn't think much about people who weren't at her level of intelligence and she believed that Light was on the same level as her so he was worth talking to, but she was wrong.  
>Light believed he was one hundred times smarter than her and frankly, he actually was.<p>

Both of them knew that they were using each other – it was something they'd wordlessly established before they even got hitched! But neither of the teens really cared.

The song on the radio finished two minutes later.

"_And that was called "_Thick_" by the band Justice!"_

"_What a great song! That L guy – he's such a talent! It's amazing how he's become so famous overnight!"_

"_L's the singer, yeah?"_

"_Yeah. I heard that Justice is already working on a second album!"_

"_Are you serious? I'm already getting excited!"_

"_Me too!  
>Up next, we have-"<em>

**-.-.-**

L turned the his amplifier off with a sleepy yawn. He leaned back against the couch, cradling his 'baby' – his glossy black and white electric guitar – in his arms.

"I'm tired." He complained. "Can't we just practice tomorrow, Mello?"

"No! We're recording the first song of our new album in two days and there's just this one bit I'm having trouble with! I need to learn how to do it properly!" He grumbled as he began to pluck a few notes on his pure black bass guitar. The heavy rhythm poured out of his amp smoothly and evenly. His pace quickened as he danced his index finger and middle finger across the four strings with ease.  
>"Fuck. I fucked it up again! FUCK."<p>

"It sounds fine." L rolled his dark, glassy eyes and shifted positions. "Say, where's everyone else?"

"They've gone home. They're sick of hearing me swearing my head off because I'm not capable of fucking doing this!"

"What song are you trying to learn?"

"FUCK!" Mello screamed in rage, nearly flinging his guitar at the wall.

"What is it now?"

"I'm so shit that you can't even tell what fucking song I'm playing!"

"Play that tune again and I'll figure it out." L offered boredly, as he got up to place his guitar on his stand before flopping back down on the couch, lazily.

The gorgeous sound of Mello's bass guitar drowned him in heaven as he plucked away like an angel sitting on a cloud.

"It's _Break My Fall_ isn't it?" He guessed.

Mello remained silent for a moment until L finally grew tired of studying his nails. "Yeah."

"You wrote that really well, you know?" He commented.

Mello smiled at him. "Thanks."

"It's one of my favourites to sing." He continued and a few seconds later, L's loud voice exploded out of his small body – "_You fought me once, but not again!"_

"_You let me feel your heavy hand" _Mello sang along. His singing voice wasn't as strong as L's, nor as talented; his voice was a lot softer and cracked at the lower notes but neither of them let that bother them as they sang along to their song.

"_I will clean your fucken' mess!"_

"_And leave no trace of evidence!"_

Both of the men burst out in laughter as Mello placed his guitar on the stand and stretched his arms and legs soon after.

"Oh man, we're fucked when we go back in that recording studio on Friday."

"I doubt it. Even if we do make one mistake, the editors will fix it or overlook it without noticing its presence. We're too good to be 'fucked'. Besides, everybody loves us! Everybody loves our music!" L explained happily with another yawn.

Mello slid down on the couch besides his bandmate. "You're right. Our band _Justice_ is too amazing to have mistakes, anyway."

"Mmm… Oh, by the way, I got a call from our manager this morning. She told me about some music festival going on some time at the end of the year, somewhere... She asked if _Justice_ would like to be a part of it. They've already got a whole heap of other bands lined up that come from all over the world." L mentioned in an offhand way.

"Are you serious? We HAVE to go! We'll kick everyone's asses!" Mello grinned. "Did you accept?"

"Not yet. I thought I'd discuss it with the band, first."

"_Justice _would be crazy not to accept! C'mon, let's do it!"

L ignored Mello's last statement when he reached for the remote and turned the tv on, which was mounted up against the wall across the room. The volume was turned all the way up to the brink where it would have been plausible if the speakers suddenly exploded out of the set, but neither of them even noticed as L continued to flick through the channels.

"_Ads. Ads. Ads. Ads- _wait a minute, I know her from somewhere!" The tv flickered through different flashes with loud beeps indicating the channel changing until it stopped upon a young woman with long black hair; the length reached almost down to her lower back. She was wearing leather clothing which showed off every curve of her body and she wore almost no makeup because she was that lucky kind of person who could almost pass off as a super model without it…. Heh, bullshit. She's probably caked it on, just the cameras probably haven't picked up on it, or something.

"Isn't that Naomi Misora, the uh…. The guitarist to some new American rock band_?_" Mello guessed.

"Probably. Last I heard, she told me she was getting into some grungy metal or band, or something. Heh. Who would have thought grunge would become interesting, again? Especially after Kurt Cobain died…."

"Well I'm not the people saying that grunge died when Kurt Cobain did, so I'm not surprised. It had a pretty big following in the 90's…."  
>L remembered back when they were kids how Mello was the biggest grunge-head around – even more-so then all the teenagers that hung about.<p>

"Mainly to Nirvana. All the other bands have nearly been forgotten about…" L yawned.

"I haven't forgotten them…."

All attention was turned back on the advertisement. She was advertising nicotine patches to help people quit smoking.

"_Besides, there are cooler ways to die than smoking" _Naomi smiled into the camera and the ad faded.

.-.-.

Beyond Birthday grabbed the remote and turned the volume up just as a car exploded into fiery oblivion in the movie he was watching. He was relaxing on the comfortable leather seat, hand dug in a bowl of hot popcorn. He loved the 'Fast And Furious' series and watched them constantly over and over again. His favourite happened to be 'Tokyo Drift' and that was the one that was currently on play.

As he was laughing along to the few jokes and references to 'Donkey Kong' the phone suddenly began to blare loudly, disturbing the movie. Beyond growled and reached for the remote to pause the movie.

"HEY! NAOMI! CAN YOU GET THE PHONE?" He yelled out.

"GET IT YOURSELF! YOU'RE CLOSER!" She yelled back with her words edged icily.

"I'M WATCHING TOKYO DRIFT!"

Nobody was to disturb him while he satisfied his craving for _Fast and Furious,_ otherwise everybody would be dealing with one hell of an unhappy Beyond Birthday, and nobody liked him when he was unhappy….  
><em>Bloody lazy shit. <em>Naomi Misora thought as she sighed and picked up the ringing phone, lit cigarette hanging from her mouth.

"What?" She answered.

"Good afternoon, this is Alex Paige speaking." Alexandra was the manager of _Backup_. She had great credentials and was good at her job but Beyond mainly wanted her because he liked her accent, which was Australian. Weird guy. Naomi didn't see what was so great about the accent – it was like a retarded version of the English accent, and even _that_ was weird.

"Afternoon, Naomi Misora speaking." She greeted in a less-than-polite tone.

"I have an offer that _Backup_ might be interested in…."

**.-.**

**(Oh, I couldn't resist mentioning Tokyo Drift XD I've got a craving to watch it because I haven't seen it in ages!)**

**Well, besides that, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I know I had a heap of fun writing it! **

**So what'll happen next? You'll just have to wait and see! (Dun dun DUN!) *ahem***

**Oh yeah, I've got a little friend… Down below… His name is **_**review**_** and he likes being clicked!**


	2. 2: This Is Ghetto, Plain And Simple

**Disclaimer: Death Note is not mine**

**Oh yeah, and you know Halle? Yeah, her last name is 'Bulook' (or something close to that), but I thought that was retarded so I changed it to 'Bullock.' Hope no one minds!**

**Songs used:**

"**Duality" by Slipknot**

"_Put me back together_

_Or separate the skin from bone_

_Leave me all the pieces, than you can leave me alone_

_Tell me the reality is better than the dream_

_But I've found out the hard way,_

_Nothing is what it seems_

_I'll push my fingers into my eyes!"_

The camera angles switched and dissolved into each other as all the band members were displayed thrashing back and forth bashing the drums, skilfully and quickly screeching against the strings of their guitars and screaming into the microphone. Windows had chairs thrown at them and those windows were shot cracking and spilling onto the floor in slow motion. A mob of people were shot thundering down the streets in a loud riot and eventually, the quick, heavy rhythm of the music faded. The lead singer's red eyes seemed to be glowing as the set returned to darkness.

The title of the song slithered in the bottom left hand corner, reading:

"_Duality -_

_Backup"_

A clicking noise sounded and the television flashed white before it suddenly turned itself off. Confusion began to mar across her features before the sound of a deep, booming voice echoed loudly near her ear.

"I won't have you listening to that type of music, Misa!" Her father snapped. His grip on the remote was so tight that it looked almost as if it could break in his hand. "This music is nothing but an ode to the devil!"

Misa glared at the man who dared to tower above her. He may have been her father, but he looked nothing like her. (ignoring the fact that she had blonde hair and blue eyes which were merely blue contacts and blonde hair dye. She wasn't allowed to change any of her features in any way, but she was trying to change everything about her in an attempt to rebel and disown herself from her family.)  
>His personality was the complete opposite of hers – he was an uptight pushover whereas Misa was laidback. She was the blacksheep of her family because her grades weren't up and remaining in the A's section like her two older brothers', instead, they liked to linger with the C's and also because she was the only one out of the two who made constant trips to the detention room.<br>Misa Amane was more like her uncle and she wished that he was her father instead. Her cousins were considered 'demons' by her dad because they dressed the way they wanted to – they were allowed to wear short skirts and skinny jeans – and because they weren't forced to go to church and 'repent for their sins' every Sunday like she was.

She wondered what her dad would think if he knew that his brother was the one that taught her how to drum? She smirked to herself. He'd probably begin to hate him even more. Oh well, that's _his_ problem.

"What are you smiling about?" He screamed in her face, which immediately wiped away all expression from her features as she stared at him with her wide, dark brown eyes. She never dared to wear her contacts around him, anymore.

Misa said nothing. She knew what he was going to say, anyway. His lecture was always the same and she basically knew it off by heart:  
>"You're nothing but a disappointment to the family! I see the way boys look at you and I see the way you look back at them! I know you listen to this <em>devil's<em> music, and what kind of lyrics are those? They're disgusting! Most of them are advertising self-mutilation! That band should be jailed! Self-mutilation is a sin! They're going to hell, you know, Misa Amane? And the way you're going, you are too!"

Misa glared at him as she climbed to her feet from the couch she'd been curled into, smoothing her long and grey pleated skirt that went past her knees before attempting to walk away gracefully, but her father grabbed onto her long blonde ponytail with a sharp tug that sent her reeling to the ground.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To my room!" She yelled back.

"No, you're coming with me to see the priest!"

Misa really couldn't wait until she moved out of home. She was eighteen years of age – a legal adult –she had the right to move out, but the only thing stopping her, besides her father, was the lack of funding. She had a steady job at the local library and it may have been the most boring thing she had to go to, other than church, but at least she was payed for it. She was hoping that there'd be an amazing opportunity for her – maybe a great uplift in her pay, so she'd have enough to rent her own apartment – that would happen as soon as possible because right now, she was on the verge of tearing down the walls of her confinement, her father, too.

.-.

Saturday consisted of Light Yagami being forced to travel to the shopping centre with his entire family for something to do, as his father had the day off from work (there hadn't been many serious cases in the FBI of recent) and Sayu was allowed to have one hundred dollars spending money as a reward because she'd decided to knuckle down and do her work like she was supposed to. Light had his own money and refused to accept any his parents offered him.

Sayu was carting her family around to every store she could find; clothing, bookstores, even home-wears. She hadn't actually bought anything, yet.

Light sighed boredly, lazily eyeing around. He was hoping that no one from school was here to see him, but as any normal Saturday midday, the place was infested with people from Daikoko Academy. Most of them waved when they saw him, Light smiled back and gave a small, half-assed wave back and went on his way.

The family approached large glass windows covered in posters which gave you ample space to peek into the next store which Sayu was considering to raid, next.

She'd been staring at the largest poster, Light noted. It was completely dark blue and with bold lettering in white, screaming out _'JUSTICE' _at the top of its lungs… If it had lungs, that is.  
>It had images of the band members doing stupid poses with their instruments. The lead singer was holding his microphone away at arm-length with a black and white guitar strapped to his body. The next guitarist angled slightly behind him was a woman with long hair. Her guitar was pure white and her fingers were pressed against the silver strings. The bassist also had long(ish) hair, which tumbled over his tilted forehead, hiding any of his facial features away. He was leaning over his glossy black guitar and the drummer was holding his sticks over his head at the back.<p>

"I didn't know you liked that band, Sayu.." Light commented rather stiffly.

Sayu's dark eyes darted over to him and back to the poster. "They're _ok_. I just think the singer is _so_ hot!"

Light's eyes narrowed as they both eyed the face of said singer… Not that you could see much of it, anyway. His face was shaded with blue that creeped over the majority of his features from the lighting and his dark hair covered up the rest. He could barely see his large, glassy eyes or his thin lips or his high cheekbones.

"Well… He's not _bad_ looking, but he's not _good_ looking, either." Light remarked snidely.

"You're just saying that because everyone else would rather get hot over a _poster_, rather than _you_!" She snapped as she noticed a small flock of girls crowd around them to drool over the bandmembers on the poster.

Slightly taken aback, Light looked around to see if his parents were around to hear that, but they were gone. There wasn't really much of a point in biting back, because all he could think of as a reply was a childish insult and he wasn't going to lower himself to that. Well, at least not in front of other people.

Sighing, he evaded the small group of girls and entered the inside music store. There weren't that many people in there, thankfully for him. That meant no one would see him head straight over to the _rock/hard-rock _section. Of course, the first thing he saw there was _Justice_'s new album – it was written as 'top pick' by the store owners on a large piece of paper attached to the shelf with bright, colourful letters.  
><em>Yeah, that's hard to miss<em>. The words just appeared in his mind when he realised that that particular CD was probably the only reason why he came into the shop, although he had half a mind to forget about it and leave.  
>Without letting anymore thoughts register in his mind, he headed over and picked up a random CD beside it, studying the cover front-to-back.<br>Of course, the only song he was really interested in listening to again, was the one he'd heard on the radio at the beginning of the week.

.-.

"You're such a hypocrite." Beyond commented, half watching one of Naomi Misora's commercials advertising nicotine patches to help quit smoking, as the real Naomi managed to scab a cigarette from the drummer of _Backup_ and lighting it, breathing in the thick, sour smoke deeply through her lungs before slowly exhaling with a tired close of her eyes.

"I don't care. I'm getting paid for it and that's all that matters." She muttered. Her eyes were red-raw and watering when she opened them again. It looked almost as if she were crying. Beyond's full focus returned to the television screen without really registering it.

The drummer of the band was creeping his hand towards the cigarette which Naomi's fingers were hooked around after she sucked in another breath through it; she looked like she about to fall off her seat and smack her head on the corner of the table she sat at. As the drummer's fingers managed to lightly brush against the cylinder, her fingers tightened around it and a literal growl emitted from her as she peered at him darkly from under her long black bangs. The man felt a cringe ache up his spine.

"Come on, Naomi!"

"Get your own."

"It _is_ mine. _I_ grew it!"

Beyond's apathetically-emotioned eyes slithered over to the two seated at the cheap table-and-chair set up on the other side of the room as the blossoming argument was beginning to grow louder and more annoying as it cut into him and his football time.

"Oi, will you two cut it out? It's just a cigarette! You've probably got heaps where that one came from, anyway!" He snapped as his glare pointed daggers at their drummer. The noise the two were making filmed over with silence as both Naomi and the drummer cracked grins large enough to almost pull their faces apart, simultaneously.

"Fuck no, the neighbours' god damned rabbits got into my patch again and I don't know if you realise, but this is a cone. Not a cigarette." The drummer to _Backup_, Mail Jeevas, better known as 'Matt' explained. His dark green eyes glazed over in the slightest as he spoke.

"You're smoking pot, now? …_Matt_," Beyond sighed, pinching the bridge between his eyes tightly. "that's worse than your cigarette addiction."

"What the fuck? I don't smoke it, I _grow_ it!" The man of twenty one years' let his expression visibly curl into frustration.

"Then why were you trying to get it back from Naomi?" Beyond reached for the remote to turn the television off when he realised he'd missed too much of the football game to let it worry him, already. Oh well, he wasn't the biggest fan of televised sports, anyway.

"Because she has no tolerance to it! It'll get her shit-faced within two puffs – look at her now, she's smoked halfway through it and she looks like she's drank about one and a half bottles of Russian Vodka spiked with fantasy!"

"Your knowledge of drugs and alcohol astounds me." Beyond Birthday muttered dryly.

"Dude, I'm a drug dealer. I'm _supposed_ to know this shit."

"No, you're a faggot who's trying to get in with the 'cool' crowds by doing something like…. _This._" Beyond snatched away the remaining bud of the 'cigarette' from the moaning and groaning Naomi Misora. He hadn't bothered to stamp out the ashes.

Matt tried grudgingly to ignore the 'faggot' comment as he ground his teeth together. "Since when have you been a such a saint, eh, _Beyond_? You've got a criminal record larger than Charlie Sheen's!"

"Charlie Sheen's record is full of scandals, - god, who cares! Seeing how I'm on probation for a the rest of this year and some of next, it's not really going to look good for me if you get caught because I'll get in trouble for anything, at the moment. I can't even be _friends_ with a drug dealer."

_Since when were we friends?_ Matt wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. "Why does everything have to be about _you?_ Why can't things be back like they were in highschool? You always said '_we'_; _'We'_ are what's important. Not _'you'!"_

Beyond glared at him for a few strong seconds with a solemn expression which let out no information about what was going on in his head. "We were kids – seventeen years old – a fucking garage band. We've made it big and things changed because change is what we needed. And so what if things are always about me? What about you? All you ever do is complain about everything; you're an attention seeking whore – "

" – Whore? I'm not the one who fucks anything that moves!" Matt snapped back, only to receive a raise of an eyebrow from Beyond.

"No! _You_ fuck anything that moves – you're the fucking half faggot half –"

" – You'll fuck anything with a vagina – young or old, it doesn't matter because all you do is think with your di-"

"Well you let the dicks do the talking _for _you, seeing how you love shoving them in your mou-"

"You're a pussy, you know that? You are what you eat, after all!" Matt hissed as he briskly turned away from him to leave.

Beyond waited until he heard Matt loudly slam the front door to his apartment shut, before he sat down opposite Naomi Misora who was staring blankly at a wall. The mostly-burnt-away bud of the joint was still between his forefinger and middle finger, he realised and without thought he slid it between his lips, taking the last satisfying breath of sour smoke.  
><em>Stupid marijuana.<em>

_.-._

"So, ah… Where the fuck is she?" A deep, curious voice rang out, shattering the silence among the group.

Dark eyes slid over to the blonde who had a mouth filthy enough to make a sailor blush, before he shrugged. "I have no clue." He replied, sliding up his sleeve to check the time on his wristwatch. _2:30pm_. "She told us to await her arrival half an hour ago."

"Yeah, well why the fuck isn't she here, yet? She standing us up, or something?"

The same, dark and glassy eyes narrowed from behind his pitch black sunglasses. "I doubt it. She did warn us that there is a chance that her flight could be delayed due to the weather situation where she took off, from."

"Yeah, right." The blonde muttered.

"_Miheal,_ she'll be here soon. Just calm down." Another voice echoed from behind him. She placed a gloved hand over his shoulder before rolling it down the front of his chest. The blonde ripped it away from his body almost immediately.

"I told you not to fucking call me that, _Halle."_ He sneered.

"Well, we can't be too public with our nicknames, can we?" She purred, before pulling completely away from him with a playful laugh. _Miheal_ gritted his teeth as his blue eyes hardened at the sight of her. "Don't give me that look. I was only kidding around with you. As if I'd even _want_ to hit on you. You look like a street walker."

He was wearing a form-fitting jacket covered in buckles and studs which ribboned around his left arm. His hood was detailed with black feathers around the rim and it was pulled up to shadow most of his face from the public world. The length of the jacket flared out at the back to show off his nice ass hiding behind tight black jeans sequined with silver studs. A large belt was wrapped around his small waist and the buckle was a heavy, detailed, metal skull and he was wearing a pair of _Doc Marten_ boots which reached half way up his shins, over his jeans.  
>Well, if he <em>were<em> a streetwalker, he'd be one hell of an expensive one, because the amount of money he spent on _this_ get-up, he'd be expecting a pretty fucking large profit!

"Ah, there you are!" A voice called out. The attentions of the three were caught as a woman sauntered over to them a bit more than casually, as if she weren't sure who they really were. In fact, Mello wasn't quite sure who the fuck she was, either.

"Where's Gevanni?" Halle whispered as she looked around almost nervously. Mello shrugged, uninterested. He was already occupied with figuring out who this lady was, who had just as well approached them.

L moved up to greet her with a ginger shake of hands before he lead her over to the two blondes standing slightly behind him.

Halle's eyes caught sight of a tall man with broad shoulders standing before one of the shopping stalls in the airport. _He couldn't be buying something, right?_ Her thoughts dribbled when she realise it was the man she was looking for. Halle immediately ruled out that thought when she noticed some short, weird looking kid who'd pulled him up for a conversation. Halle kept an eye on the two for a few prolonged seconds and when she realised that the weird looking kid was staring right at her with hollow looking eyes, she felt a chill run down her spine. She assumed that it was just a random, brief meeting of eyes (even though her eyes were hiding behind sunglasses) but he never looked away.  
><em>Oh god. Gevanni better not have given<em> _our identities away._ Halle felt a cringing pain begin to twist in the centre of her stomach as her vision fell upon her bandmate. He wouldn't do that… Unless that kid figured it out for himself… _Shit.  
><em>Gevanni turned around to meet Halle's gaze, just as the kid had done. She witnessed how his expression raised in surprise before he snapped back around and got the boy's attention, again.

"-And Halle, this is our manager, Miss. Christy Lee. I'm not sure if you two have been introduced, yet." That was a lie slipping right out of L's lips and he knew it. It was only he who had really met her, before. Mello had been introduced to her once or twice, but he hadn't really bothered to hold down even the slightest of conversations with her. Not that either of them actually cared.

Halle smiled widely at her even though she felt sick to her stomach. "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Halle Bullock." She greeted, holding her hand out for a shake. The young woman took it kindly, with a firm shake.

"I'm Christy Lee." She replied, despite the fact that she already knew that L had introduced her to everyone already. She wasn't exactly appreciative of that, because she preferred to introduce _herself,_ properly.

"So is _Lee_ your middle name, or….?"

"No, it's my last name." The name sounded incomplete, in all honesties.

"Oh. And what's _Christy_ short for? Christine? Christianna?"

"It's short for nothing. It's just _Christy_, full stop!" Christy smiled. Halle raised an eyebrow under her thick blonde fringe before shrugging.

Before long, they'd finally stolen Gevanni back from that weird looking kid that kept on talking and talking to the poor guy and soon enough, the entire group, plus Christy, travelled back to L's penthouse apartment for discussions.

" – There will be plenty of other bands playing at the festival, too. The audience will vote on who has the best 'sound' and the winners get a pretty big stack of pounds and will be highly recommended to attend a 'meet-n-greet' and signing in LA, afterwards. Trust me, your following will become a lot stronger if you do this."

"So do you know what bands are coming?" Mello questioned, keeping his tone steady and quiet.

Christy began to name a few off the top of her head that she knew was definitely coming. None of the names really sparked an interest in any of the band members as she rattled on happily. "- I don't know if you guys would have heard of this band, but they're getting pretty famous in America at the moment. My associate got a _maybe_ from them, as she is their manager, - "

As L zoned back in when he realised that she was continuing to mention bands who were attending this sound festival that he didn't like or care about - let alone even _heard_ of - but despite this, he stopped her to ask; "Which band are you talking about?"

Christy briefly narrowed her dark green eyes before she let the rudeness of L's tone slide. "_Backup."_

"_Backup?_" He repeated. The tone of his voice disobeyed him as large drops of surprise splattered over his words. _It's a common word, L! You should know that! It wouldn't be-_

"Mmhm!" Christy grinned. "You've heard of them?"

L noticed how the rest of his bandmembers were looking at him strangely due to his subtle outburst. He cleared his throat in an attempt to recompose himself. "I might have." He answered. "What are the names of the members?"

"Uh, I only remember two of them. The guitarist is Naomi Misora. I remember her because she's full on into the anti-smoking campaigns and the singer, or rather screamer, Beyond Birthday."

L's jaw must have grown numb because it suddenly dropped to the floor without him even having to think about it.

.-.

**F- yeah! New chapter! :D Thanks for all the follows and that one reviewer, Kakashifangirlnumber1000 **

**Well I took the time to figure out most of the songs and plot that I shall put in here, and I'm beginning to like it a bit more :D**

**With the songs, I've decided upon specific (real) bands in which I see fit for the (Fanfiction) bands.  
>For example, I will probably mainly use Breaking Benjamin for L's band because hell, why not? Most of their songs are pretty intricately written and extremely depressing and sad, yet they veil over the saddening lyrics with epic guitar solos so it makes the listener feel less like cutting themselves in empathy. It kind of reminds me of L and how he hides his true emotions behind monotone… And also, I can imagine him having a singing voice like Breaking Benjamin's lead singer XD<br>And Beyond's band will most likely be doing Slipknot songs because their lyrics are actually pretty cool and some of the songs remind me on how Beyond was trying to be the 'perfect' L… And also I imagine him singing/screaming like the lead singer/screamer XD**


	3. Glad You Think We Give A Fuck

**Well howdy there, reviewers and readers! I've finally gotten off my butt to write an update! I've just been busy creating another chapter for my other fanfiction Ghost, but it's taking me a while because it's **_**so**_** angsty at the moment and it's making it hard to write. I needed a comic relief! **

**Oh yes, when I read through the second chapter, I noticed what I did to Halle's last name. Her **_**real**_** name is 'Halle Bullock' but the fake name she uses is 'Halle Lidner'. I used her real last name instead of the fake. Hope nobody minds o_o' I'll try and clear it up in later chapter, promise.**

**Dislcaimer: Death Note is not mine, but this fanfiction certainly is, so I suppose I kind of **_**own**_** L and B because of the way I've written them, right, right? Yeah, that's what I thought.**

**Songs used, in order, are;**

_**Man In The Box – Alice In Chains**_

_**Before I forget – Slipknot**_

_**Tighter and Tighter – Soundgarden**_

**Look them up on YouTube or I'll kill you in your sleep! :D**

Chapter 3: Glad You Think We Give A Fuck

The bright yellow sunshine of the early morning was filtered out by the blackout curtains hung up above his window. Matt rubbed his eyes, messing his auburn locks up further. He'd just woken up feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. His limbs were aching and weighing him down and his head was throbbing. He lightly stretched his back and rolled over, green eyes half closed and as he did, he suddenly jolted backwards, flying out from under the covers of his bed and smacking his bare hip into the corner of his bedside table.  
>There was somebody asleep in his bed; Under <em>his<em> duvet; On top of _his_ pillow. He had no idea who this person was - he wasn't able see this person's face, let alone tell the gender.

'_Another one-night-stand?'_ Matt thought. His ass wasn't hurting, so it obviously wasn't a dominant guy, if it were a guy that is, so that could have meant he topped. But what if it were a girl?  
>So it was either a girl, or, it was a guy who liked it up the ass. Matt shifted back in his bed, lifting his covers to confirm what he suspected. Yeah, dried come on his stomach and a naked cock.<p>

"_Ew, _jizz!" Matt scrunched his face up. He wasn't daren't enough to pick it off because he didn't know if it was his or not, but either way, touching come was gross.

"Hmmm. Did you say something?" A voice mumbled out.

Yep. It was a girl. "Who are you?" Matt replied, sitting up all the way and resting his back against the ratty headboard of his bed.

The woman sat up immediately, pulling the blanket with her to cover her chest. "Whose bed is this?" She asked. She looked around, barely able to make out anything inside the bedroom due to the black-out curtains.

Matt couldn't help but let a smirk crawl across his lips. She obviously could remember about as much as he could. "You're in _my_ bed." He said. "I'm Matt." He held out a hand in her general direction, or what he believed it was and after a few seconds of searching for it, she took it gently, shaking it.

"Linda." She introduced. "God my head hurts. I must have been so drunk last night,"

"I don't know whether or not I should be insulted by that." He laughed. "I get hangovers a lot so it's only natural I know the best cure for them."

"I don't normally _do_ one night stands." Linda subconsciously held the blanket to her body tighter. Her head felt like it was repeatedly smacking against a brick wall each time she moved a muscle. "What is the cure?" She groaned.

"McDonald's hashbrowns and coffee." Matt climbed out of his bed awkwardly, feeling a wave of dizziness and nausea suddenly overtake him. He tripped, but reached his hand out landing and holding his weight up against the wall. "I'll take you out." He offered. His stomach bubbled and bile rose in his throat. That's when he suddenly bolted out of the room.

"Oh, a date to McDonald's. You really _are_ my Romeo." She grumbled, throwing the blanket off her body and stepping out of the bed, holding out her arms and groping around until she found the window the curtains were hanging from. With one long stride of muscle, she tore them open. A wide city-scape view of Los Angeles was hidden behind the cool glass. Linda shielded her eyes from the sudden in-take of light shining into them and into the room which was now clearly visible for her viewing.

A large double bed with black satin covers pressed up against the wall beside the window, a giant wardrobe with frosted-glass sliding doors, thick, rich coloured white carpet, dark brown furniture with brass trimming and posters covering almost every inch of the tall walls. They were mostly band posters, a few of them said _'Backup'_ on them. She hadn't heard much of their music, but she knew they were a heavy metal band or something, and that type of music didn't exactly tickle her fancy. Speaking of tickling her fancy, this guy, Matt, was obviously pretty loaded if he could afford a nice looking apartment like this, and she'd only seen the bedroom. She searched around the room for her clothes; finding a small red party dress flung across the room as well as her knickers, but where was her bra?

The room was fairly messy. Actually, that was an understatement, it was fairly _trashed._ Scrunched up paper was thrown around everywhere she could look, books were scattered across the floor, some opened, some closed. Some covers were torn or ripped and some weren't. There were cd's piled nearly up the roof in a large stack on his desk, surrounding his large silver laptop like a barricade. Clothes were strewn across every piece of furniture in sight and there was a large crack in the frosted glass of the wardrobe; It looked like there'd been some sort of a blunt force aimed directly at it.

Linda kept her clothes piled in her arms, stepping over everything on the floor. She tried not the think about what this 'Matt' actually looked like. She first considered him to be a large, fat and lonely slob, but after seeing several shirts of his, well, it told a different story.

Linda headed over to the bedside table Matt smacked his side on, gingerly lifting a striped tee-shirt and dropping it to the floor. Her eyes landed on what it was she was looking for. She snagged it up, knocking over an ashtray onto the floor.

"Oh shit!" She cursed as the ash dissolved into the thick shaggy carpet and the cigarette butts flew into every direction she could see. Her eyes travelled back to the bedside table, spotting a photograph covered in grey, smelly ash. She picked it up curiously.

There were four people in the image; Three men, one woman. The woman, she easily recognised. It was Naomi Misora, the guitarist to _Backup_. The only reason why Linda knew of her was because of the amount of advertisements she had on television against smoking. Ironically enough, she had a cigarette hanging from her lips. Next to her was a tall blonde man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a cheesy grin across his lips. His skin was tanned brown and his eyes a vivid blue. He was the most solidly built out of everybody else in the picture. There were two other men sitting on another couch angled perpendicularly beside them. One with hair as black as ebony spiked up all on the left side with sharp features; high cheekbones, pointed chin and he had peculiar coloured eyes that just drew you to his face. She couldn't define the colour, no matter how hard she looked. His feet were resting on the coffee table and he was staring at fanned out playing cards he held both in his hands, looking bored. Beside him was a man with brown hair that might as well have been bright red due to the highlights. He was wearing a black and white striped shirt. His skin was pallid, and his eyes were bright green. He was sticking his middle finger up at the cameraman while holding a beer bottle to his lips. All four of the people in the picuture were sitting on a couch, each holding playing- cards in front of them. The coffee table by their knees was covered in empty beer bottles. She could have sworn she's seen the man with the black hair, before. She turned the photograph to show the underside, looking for a name or a date, or something to give her a clue, but instead, in thin, neat, and curvy handwriting was a poem... or maybe lyrics? She couldn't be sure, but she read it anyway.

"_I'm the man in the box_

_Buried in my shit_

_Won't you come and save me? (Save me)_

_Fire in my eyes (Can you sew them shut?)_

_Jesus Christ (Deny your maker)_

_He who tries (Will be wasted)_

_Oh_

_Fear in my eyes (Now you tell me)_

_I'm the dog that gets beat_

_Shove my nose in shit_

_Won't you come and save me? (Save me)"_

She furrowed her eyebrows, unable to know what to make of it and placed the photograph back the way she found it. She looked around the room again, eyes snagging against snippets of band posters and CD's sitting in large piles on his desk. Constantly, the name _Backup_ was caught throughout the room. Sighing, Linda climbed to her feet and stepped over to one of the posters with _Backup_ written across it in black lettering. The lead singer was standing in right in the front, hunched over wearing black which illuminated his alabaster-white skin and brought out his demonically red, glowing eyes. His shaggy black hair covered the rest.

'_Wait, WHAT?'_ Linda squinted her eyes, soon realising exactly who he was; this was the man from the photograph. Behind him was Naomi Misora, to her left was that blonde guy and right behind him was the red-headed guy. The band members of _Backup_ were the people in the photograph. All of them. In the poster they were standing behind silver, criss-crossed wire mesh. The lead singer was weaving his fingers between the gaps.

"Oh god. I think I slept with a member of _Backup._" She looked around the room as she stepped backwards, finding a black and white striped shirt halfway under Matt's bed. The same shirt the man with the reddish hair in the photograph was wearing. "Oh my god." She repeated.

"I'm the drummer." A deep male voice echoed out, causing the woman to jump. Her expression read that she was dumb-founded by her discovery. Matt sighed to himself. He was wearing a pair of low-cut, dark blue ribbed jeans. The belt hoops had silvery chains hanging from them and his chest and feet were bare. His hair was dripping wet and looked darker in comparison to the photos. He was standing in the opened doorway, casting a long shadow which pooled into the bedroom.

Matt braced himself for the worst. Her reaction would be bad. Not for her, but for him. If she was a fan of the band, she'd brag to the world how he'd fucked her one drunken night and how he offered to take her to McDonalds to help cure her hang over, even though he'd only mentioned it out of courtesy. She'd tell the world where he lives, and _how_ he lives, what kind of underwear he wears, how many cigarettes were in his ashtray, and what about of all the attempted-but-failed lyrics he'd written? There was no way she could _not_ have seen them. Oh goodness, what would she do if she figured out that he spent most of his time playing video games or growing weed out in the pot-plants stashed in his cupboard? His life would be over and all because of a stupid one-night-stand.

Linda walked out of the room without word, heading straight past him, clothes still piled in her arms. Of course she immediately noticed the glossy red drum-kit sitting in the middle of the next room but she forced herself to ignore it as she walked forward, eventually finding where the bathroom was and closing the door behind her once she'd entered it.

Matt sat on his bed, wondering what to do.

.-.

The room was dark an ominous. Mikami sat in the middle of it on a wooden chair. Misa had her arms crossed behind her back tightly, striding back and forth. Her blonde hair was tied up in a high pony tail and she was wearing a black leather jacket that rode above her hips to give the world a peek at the soft flesh of her stomach. She was wearing black skinny jeans and lace up boots to go with it.

"You have been a very good friend for quite a few years and have given me the pleasure of sharing your talents with me by joining my band." Misa stopped in her stride and faced the teenager with the long black hair and thick-lensed nerd-glasses. "I need use of those 'talents' to help me get a certain… _person_ to join _Kira." _Her finger traced underneath her bottom lip.

"And who might this person be, my lady?" Mikami asked gently.

"This person," She began in a firm tone, pulling open her laptop and handing it to her friend. "Is Light Yagami. The most popular and most intelligent kid in all of Daikoko Academy. I have reason to believe he can also sing, and a singer is exactly was _Kira_ needs."

Mikami layed his eyes upon and image of the most gorgeous specimen he'd ever seen in his entire life. Dark brown hair cut perfectly to frame his high cheekbones and sharp and shapely jawline. His skin was clear and flawless. His shoulders were broad and toned and his expression was just so… _hot. But of course Mikami already knew who he was. He almost knew him like the back of his hand._

"Do you wish for me to perform intensive research on this… person?" Of course 'intensive research' was just a prettier way to say 'flat out stalking'.

"Yes. Follow him everywhere he goes, find out what classes he has, who he is close to, who he isn't. Find out the names of his siblings, the name of his mother and father, his pet duck, foods he likes, favourite colour, number, song, band, book, movie, anything!"

" He has Advanced Mathmatics and Calculus, Advanced French and German and English, Ancient Japanese, Modern Japanese, Advanced World History, Advanced Law Studies, and Creative Writing - average class." Mikami answered immediately. He'd memorized Light's timetable so he'd know if and when they'd have a class together, right under his nose. Light never noticed him outside of class, so he was hoping it'd be different during, but so far, no luck.

"Very good, Teru-kun." Misa nodded. "Your skills are always at their peak and no information is spared."

Mikami grinned. He'd barely lifted a finger. "He has a girlfriend named Takada Kiyomi. He is on first name basis with her, calling her 'Kiyomi-Chan' whenever she is around but when she is not, she is simply 'Takada-san'. They are not close, but she is the closest to Yagami-ku – _san."_ He corrected himself with a blush. "He has one sibling; a sister named Sayu. She is fourteen and in year eight at Daikoko. As for his parents, I don't know their names as he never speaks of them. Nor do I know if he has a pet duck. He often buys a lot of apples from the canteen so I assume he likes them."

"Excellent." Misa's lips widened into a grin as she tented her fingers together. "Continue to find out as much as you can about him. Follow him _everywhere_. Try not to seem suspicious but every now and then if he is in a public place such as a mall, attempt to strike up a conversation with him. Mention the band. That way, _Kira_ will always be plaguing his mind." She demanded.

Mikami climbed to his feet, tucking his left arm under his belly. He bowed lowly with a bend of his knees; His right hand flaring into the air. "Yes, my lady." He responded. He was pretending to be the 'Valiant Knight' for his queen who'd just set him up for a quest to save the princess, Light, from the towers surrounded by dragons and fire.

'_Yes… That's right. Light is my little… prince.'_

.-.

Mello was resting against the wall later that afternoon, iPod headphones stuck in his ears when L found him. His music was playing loudly to the point where L could clearly hear it; heavy guitars, loud drum solos and screaming. Mello's fingers were tapping the bass tune against the wall, rocking his head back and forth, lost in his own mind. It was only when L pulled out an earphone that Mello finally noticed his presence.

"L, what are you doing, here? I thought you were with that Christy bitch?"

"What are you listening to?" L completely ignored Mello as he stuck his headphone into his ear.

The lyrics screamed out;

"_I am a world before I am a man, _

_I was a creature before I could stand_

_I will remember before I forget_

_Before I forget that!"_

"That band _Backup_ that you had a spaz out, before. They aren't bad." Mello smirked.

L cringed. Right, _Backup._ The lead singer was Beyond Birthday. Guitarist Naomi Misora. "I didn't have a 'spaz', Miheal." L grumbled. "I was just shocked, because I know who Beyond Birthday is."

Mello quirked a brow, wordlessly telling L to go on with his story.

"I kind of grew up with him. We aren't related, but I've known him since I was eight and I lost contact with him when he turned seventeen. I thought he was dead, honestly."

"_I'm ripped across the ditch, and settled in the dirt and I_

_I wear you like a stitch, yet I'm the one who's hurt_

_Pay attention to your twisted little indiscretions_

_I've got no right to win, I'm just caught up all the battles"_

L pulled the earbud out and handed it back to Mello. He'd had enough of the song and enough of Beyond. Mello took it in his hand, confusion seeping into his expression as L climbed to his feet in a flash of black and white before he was standing tall before him.

"I don't like it." He told him. "I've never liked that type of music." And he left the room.

Mello frowned, putting the song on pause and wrapping the headphones around the object before following L out of the room.

Halle was leaning against Gevanni's shoulder on the leather couch. He was stroking her hair while she was typing away at the laptop rested on her stomach. L was pulling on a thick jacket by the doorway before opening the front door and walking out.

"Hey, where the fuck is L going?" Mello asked.

"He's going to meet up with Christy about that music festival. I have a feeling L doesn't want to go and she's trying to convince him." Stephen Gevanni answered.

Mello's brow furrowed. "This wouldn't have anything to do with _Backup_ would it?"

L's reaction to the mentioning of _Backup_ was incredibly out of character for him; Halle and Gevanni both knew it as well as Mello. It'd be the most plausible reason. L said he and Beyond grew up together during childhood but L completely avoided mentioning whether they had a bad past together, or not.

"That's too bad. I really wanted to go." Halle mumbled. She rolled over, head landing in Gevanni's lap. He didn't mind. You'd think they were lovers or something, the way they acted, but they weren't. Or, at least that's what they told everybody. "But I don't trust that 'Christy Lee' character. I think she's a bit… _off."_

"Seems that way. She's too… well… I don't know how to put it."

"She's not real enough to be 'believable'." Mello supplied. "And why would L go out by himself to see her? He never does that."

"Christy Lee probably has some sort of brain power which derives from her 'perfectness' to just make L do her bidding." Halle laughed. Gevanni and Mello just stared at her. She didn't notice. "And why would she fly all the way down from god-knows-where just to tell us about the music festival? Hasn't she ever heard of a phone call?"

"Maybe she's on holiday…" Gevanni added in.

"Sense is made, Halle." Mello smirked.

A few silent seconds later, the three burst out into laughter at the stupidity of their theories.

"I'm going to go find him." Mello gave a departing grin and he left the large penthouse-apartment.

Outside, it was raining hard. The air was cold and everything was grey. Mello shivered, holding his arms, wishing he'd brought a jacket with him. He stepped out from under the shelter, finding a sleek black car parked across the road. Mello knew it was L's car. He headed over to the edge of the road, looking both ways, realising both sides were as busy as each other, before carefully and quickly crossing. Cars were speeding and beeping, a few people recognised him and squealed and a few people on the streets pulled their phones out and took photographs. Mello glared at anyone that attempted to approach him when he found his footing on the pavement and he jogged over to the car a few metres ahead of him.

Loud rock music was pouring out from the speakers from what could be heard of outside. Mello pulled the door open, learning it was unlocked and pushing himself inside.

Just as expected, L was inside, hands on the steering wheel, eyes staring out into the span of the road in front of him.

"L, what are you doing in here?" Mello asked, voice shaking and skin prickling. He stuck his wet hands in front of the heater to try and warm them up.

"_Shadow face_

_Blowing smoke and talking wind_

_Lost my grip"_

_Fell too far to start again, start again"_

The voice was slow and familiar as is drew out in lengthy tones. The guitar playing was slow and long notes rolled out in a dark tune.

"I'm sitting, listening to myself and Beyond Birthday sing." L answered, fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

"_A sudden snake_

_Found my shape and tells the world_

_Remember this_

_Remember everything is just black_

_Or burning sun"_

Mello's jaw dropped. "You were in a band with him? _That's_ how you knew him?"

"And also that we grew up together." L added. "I already told you."

"_And I hope it's a sweet ride_

_Sleep tight for me_

_Sleep tight for me I'm gone"_

"We wrote this song together when we were fifteen." L told him. "I'd forgotten about it until I'd found an old dusty tape marked with our names on it." A ghost of a smile crawled across his lips. "I wonder if Beyond remembers."

"I'm sure he does." Mello replied. "L, I think you should go to this music festival. Who cares if _Backup_ is going. This is about _us._"

"_Sleep tight for me_

_Sleep tight for me I'm gone"_

"I suppose. But I'd rather not see him again." L shrugged.

"What- why not? Who gives a flying fuck, L?" The blonde snapped.

"_Warm and sweet_

_Swinging from a windows ledge_

_Tight and deep _

_One last sin before I'm dead"_

"What ever happened between you two to make you not want to see him, so much?"

"_A sucking holy wind_

_Will take me from this bed tonight_

_And bloody wits_

_Another hits me and I have to say goodbye"_

"That would not be of anything which concerns you." In other words, 'Stay out of my shit. You're not welcome.' L spoke sharply, cutting off whatever Mello was about to say.

"_Sleep tight for me_

_Sleep for me I'm gone"_

"Well fuck you too, L." Mello growled, opening up the car door, climbing out and slamming it shut.

L snapped his hand over to the volume and turned it all the way up, his voice yelling out with the lyrics;

"_And I hope it's a sweet ride, here for me tonight, coz I feel I'm goin', feel I'm slowin' down"_ and with that, he started the engine and sped off.

Sleep tight for me

I'm gone

.-.

"I don't know what to do! You've got to help me out a little!" Matt's voice gave away how nervous he was feeling through the speakers of the phone.

Beyond smirked, lighting up a cigarette as he held his mobile to his ear by his shoulder. "Well, tell me what happened, first." He said, placing the smoke between his lips and taking a deep drag before grabbing onto the Xbox360 controller, unpausing his game of _Forza 3_ and speeding off, past the other virtual cars he was racing.

"I had a one night stand." The redhead began, speaking slowly.

"And now you have herpes or AIDS and you're too embarrassed to go see the doctor about it?" The raven-haired man supplied.

A grunt echoed out through the phone before he snapped "No!" loud, clearly and sharply. Beyond literally would have pulled the phone away from his ear, it was that loud, but his hands were already occupied with the white wireless controller. He laughed loudly just to spite Matt.

"Well, tell me the story. Maybe it won't be as funny as I think it will be, who knows."

Matt sighed. "Alright. So I had a one night stand with a chick-"

"_Wow,_ a chick! So you're not as much of a faggot as I thought you were." Beyond mocked.

"Shut the fuck up, you dick. Anyway, her name is Linda. All I remember is that I went to the bar last night to grab a beer. Next thing you know, there she is, in my bed. She seems to remember just as much as I do. At first she had no idea who I was until I left the bedroom and she opened my curtains and looked through my shit."

"Well, this is why I kick my hook-ups out as soon as I've fucked them. If you're _that_ scared, maybe _that's_ what you should have done, or you know, _don't _have any more one night stands."

"Beyond, I was _drunk._ Drunker than your mother when she fucked your father and conceived you. I'm pretty useless when I'm _that_ off my face that I can't even function properly."

"Ooh, that was _low_, Matt." Beyond growled. "At least _my_ mother didn't get molested by her grandfather to conceive you, you inbred fuck."

"Hey, hey, my mother was _never_ molested by _anyone, _let alone my grandfather! Don't spit your lies at me. At least what _I_ said was true."

"Hmh. Touché." Beyond couldn't help but laugh, but as he did, his car on _Forza_ drove right into the side of another. "Shit." He whispered.

"Anyway, before she realised I was _Matt_ from _Backup_, I offered to take her to McDonald's-"

"-Why would you _do_ that? You never ask your hook-ups to a date the next morning! That's against every single rule of-"

"-Shut the fuck up and let me speak. "

"- And _who_ goes on a date to McDonald's, anyway? _That_ certainly proves how romantic you are."

"It wasn't supposed to be like that. But I admitted that I'm a member of _Backup_ and I was expecting her to ask for my autograph or something like that, but instead, she just walked out of the room saying nothing, straight to the bathroom for a shower or some shit." Matt paused to let Beyond speak, but he said nothing. "She left about an hour ago. I'm afraid she's going to tell the media how bad I am in bed."

Beyond snorted. "How _bad_ you are? So does that mean you can barely last ten minutes before jizzing? I knew it."

Matt's cheeks grew bright red. "I didn't mean that literally, you faggot. She's going to tell the media where I live, how I live, what I do with my spare time, what kind of underwear I wear, how _big_ I am, maybe. I mean, this isn't my first one night stand, but it's the first one where I've been so drunk that I've forgotten to kick the person out after I'm finished with them."

"_Relax,_ Matt. Why don't you just, I don't know, look up Linda's _Facebook_ or something and find out what kind of person she is. Maybe she's not the type to tell everyone how big your cock is… although it's probably not as big as mine, anyway."

"Yeah, that's a _great_ idea. The only thing is, I don't know her last name. Plus, _Facebook_ should be _Fakebook_, because everybody creates a fake persona just to get people to like them more. And no, my cock is bigger than yours."

"Wow Matt, that's so deep." Beyond stated; sarcasm dripping heavily from his words.

"That's what she said. _Gah, _shut up. It means that whoever she is on _Facebook,_ is nowhere near what she's like in real life."

Beyond's virtual car was smashed to the side just as he was about to cross the finish line by a speedy white race car, rendering him in second place. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yelled, throwing the controller to the floor. "This is BULLSHIT."

"You're reaction is a little over the top."

"I'm playing _Forza_, dumb shit. I've come second."

"Ha. I'd beat your ass."

"I'm sure you would if I were gay." Beyond muttered dryly.

"Fuck up, Beyond." Matt couldn't help but laugh at Beyond's humour.

They may not have been 'friends', but even though Matt hated him to the point where he wanted to run him over with a heavy truck; flattening him to the road like a soft pancake made of blood and flesh, they were still close. Beyond made a lot of fun of him by insulting him in any way he could, but Matt insulted him right back. Their friendship, or 'friend_shit'_, as Matt had dubbed it, was of love-hate levels and neither of them would have it any other way.

"About the girl, I wouldn't really worry too much about it. If you're too much of a pussy, why don't you just move out or something? Get on with your life. I'm sure she'd probably do the same."

"Hmh. I hope so."

Beyond put the controller down, pulling the half-burnt cigarette out from between his lips and stamping the ashes out on the empty glass ashtray beside him, blowing a stream of white smoke out of his lips as he did so. "Anyway, I've gotta go, Matt. I've got another 'date' tonight and I've got to get ready in an hour."

"You mean fuck-buddy, right? Heh. Sure, whatever. See ya." The phone beeped, indicating that Matt had hung up.

Beyond lied. He didn't have a 'date' that night. He just didn't feel like talking to his half gay half straight friend, anymore. With a smirk, Beyond picked up his gaming controller again.

.-.

**Well I've updated. I hope everybody has enjoyed the chapter! :D The longest bit to write was Matt's part right at the beginning of the chapter, but the most fun to write was the phone call between he and Beyond and the part where Misa orders Mikami to stalk Light.  
>The hardest to write was Mello's and L's part….<strong>

**Next chapter, we'll have more of **_**Justice**_ **and more of Light, I suppose. I believe everybody is sick of Matt and Beyond always being asswipes to each other, am I right?**


	4. Hahaha! What The Fuck?

**Songs used:  
>Pulse Of The Maggots – Slipknot<br>Vermillion – Slipknot  
>Firefly – Breaking Benjamin<strong>

**Ah, another month, another chapter, amirite? Eh. Well I broke a few bones pretty recently and have only just gotten out of this massive ass cast. I was so happy that I could start writing again. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! **

Chapter 4: Hahaha! What the fuck?

The crowds were wild. They jumped and screamed and yelled. People climbed onto each others' shoulders and waved around like mad. A loud, high, humming noise erupted through the crowd, like some sort of warning bell. Three men and one woman entered on the stage, marching like they were soldiers. The crowd wailed louder in a blur of noise and colour and movement. The stomping noises grew louder and louder until the entire stages lighting shut off into abrupt blackness. The crowds yelling did not seem to cease.

"_This is the year where hope fails you_

_The test subjects run the experiment_

_And the bastard you know, is the hero you hate_

_But cohesing is possible if we try_

_There's no reason, there's no lesson_

_No time like the present, tell me right now_

_What have you got to lose, what have you got to lose_

_Except your soul... who's with us?"_

The lead singer exploded in a loud, rough voice. The blurred whirl of people standing by the crowds began to chant 'Backup! Backup! Backup!' Suddenly, a heavy mixture of drums, followed by bass and finally electric guitar erupted in a thunderous explosion.

"_I fight for the unconventional_

_My right, and its unconditional_

_I can only, be as real as I can_

_The disadvantage is_

_I never knew the plan_

_This isn't just a way to be a martyr_

_I can't, walk alone any longer_

_I fight, for the ones who can't fight_

_And if I lose, at least I tried"_

"Ah, you're expected to follow after _Backup's_ act." Christy Lee piped up trying her best to call over the loud music everybody was moshing to as she greeted _Justice_ by the door of their limo.

One by one, each band member pooled out of the long vehicle. Halle, Gevanni, Mello and then L. Large groups of people began to crowd around, screaming out their names and flashing posters of the band. L hadn't really known how Mello had conned him into coming. He suspected it was his guilt flooding in after Mello had told him what was what while they were in that car that rainy day.

"_Backup_ are doing two songs." Christy continued. "And so are you, right?"

"Of course." L added in bluntly with a brisk roll of his eyes.

As _Justice_ made their way towards the stage that was literally vibrating from the loud guitars and heavy drumming, the crowds wouldn't seem to give them a break. People came up and literally groped them, people took photos, L was asked to sign a few boobs and Mello a dick. They all refused, of course. They were shoved around, elbowed, and knocked over, by the time they'd actually reached the back of the large stage set up. There was a handful of people hiding behind the stage, lit joint in hand. They quickly snuffed it into the grass when they saw them approaching.

"_We-we are the new diabolic_

_We-we are the bitter bucolic_

_If I have to give my life you can have it_

_We-we are the pulse of the maggots"_

The five people laughed giddily as one of them screamed along with the lyrics. His friend shoved him and they both ran off, chasing each other. The other three left were girls. One nodded at _Justice_ in a sign of respect as she calmly followed her two friends out. The other two women that were left there stayed, giggling.

"Ah, Christy!" A loud, feminine voice greeted as a woman with dark brown hair and lightly tanned skin stepped out from behind the thick black curtains of the stage

"Alex!" Christy Lee greeted back, excitement blatant in her tone of voice. "I'd like you to meet _Justice!_ Popular rock band of The United Kingdom!"

"Hello!" She greeted, grabbing onto L's hand without warning and shaking it hardly. "I'm Alex Paige. Manager to _Backup._"

L tried to worm his hand out of hers but found she had an iron-like grip. She was probably a fan, he decided.

"I love your music." She added with a large grin.

'_Knew it.'_ L smirked. "Well, I'm glad you like our work." He pulled his hand away from hers in an obvious tug that Halle and Gevanni both seemed to have noticed.

"And Beyond is excited to catch up with you, too!"

L suddenly felt wired to the floor. Beyond? Beyond Birthday? He was right. He figured it out the moment he heard that _Backup_ existed. Beyond was back. He tried not to say anything that would make it obvious about his sudden shock but Mello grabbed his shoulder.

"You're looking pale. Paler than normal." He stated.

L shrugged himself away from Mello's grip. "I'm fine. Probably just the pre-gig jitters or something." He sounded so lame saying that, he realised. Mello smirked, trying to hold back a giggle or a chuckle. Yeah, chuckle. That sounded more of a manly word.

Alex and Christy led the band through the thick, dusty black curtains. Two largely built men in even larger black tee shirts greeted them when they entered. Written across their chest in large, white writing was 'Security'.

"Hello, this must be Mello!" One of the security guards piped up, excitement evident in his voice.

"Oh. Hi." Mello replied, less than amused.

"Y'know, I play a bit of bass, too." The guard continued, hopeful to start a conversation with his beloved star musician.

"That's nice. What kind of guitar do you have?"

"A Fender!"

"Very nice guitar. Good sound, nice and smooth." Mello had a few Fenders himself, but for shows, he mostly used his Spector. It had a smaller, lighter body so it was easier to carry for about three hours flat.

The security guard seemed to be gawking with happiness as they opened up two large wooden doors they were guarding so _Justice_ could make their way inside. The other security guard rolled his eyes at his partner.

"You don't play bass!" He hissed.

They entered into a large, dimly lit, open room decked with couches, tables, amps, stands, large kegs of alcohol and eskies filled with beer. There was a long hallway leading downwards with several rooms left and right everywhere you looked, just off the room they were in. There were stairs leading to another door directly in front of them with a large door vibrating with noise. The music was muffled into nothing but a blur as it'd been thoroughly sound proofed.

"We've moved your equipment into one of the rooms in the hallways. You should follow me." Alex mentioned. "Beyond, Aiber and Matt are whom you should be thanking. They've even locked the door, too."

"_Aiber?_" L gaped. "He's in _Backup_ as well?"

"Of course he is." Stephen Gevanni replied. "He plays bass pretty well, and Beyond needed a bass player. He knew Aiber. Aiber knew him. It was easy."

"Everybody fucking plays bass!" Mello snapped.

"Getting too 'mainstream' for you now, Mello?" Halle laughed. Mello replied with nothing but a near inaudible grumble.

With a scoff and a roll of his dark, glassy eyes, L spoke up. "Enough of this arguing and bitching. We need to get set up. We go on twenty minutes after _Backup_ finish. We are the following act and we will show the crowds what we're made of. We're not just 'a band' that's 'rising in popularity' as _Backup_ is. _We_ are the_ meaning_ of 'popularity'. We will prove that we are far better than _Backup."_ As it always had been between he and B; rivalry, and it was evident. His band, his friends, didn't know Beyond like he did and what he was capable of.

Mello grinned at L. He was glad that L had turned around from his stand when he'd clearly told them that he wanted no part in this music festival. "I'll go get our stuff."

"Come on!" Christy urged. She was standing by the mouth of the hallway, gesturing for them to follow. Gevanni was already there, leaning against the wall beside their band manager. L and Mello followed. Halle and Alex were in a conversation before Christy butted in and reminded them that time was burning faster than light.

Gevanni's drums were already set up and on wheels, ready to be shifted onto the stage. L, Mello and Halle brought their large cases out and opened them when they sat on the couches. L was smoothly cleaning it with a thick, lemon scented oil and Mello was tuning his black bass guitar. He plugged it into one of the amplifiers that'd been left out there and strummed a few heavy notes.

"Sounds good." He grinned.

Halle was practicing the rhythmic notes of the first song they were going to perform. "I'm so nervous." She muttered. Something hard landed in her lap which caught her by surprise. She picked up the packaging, turned it over and then she knew what it was. She looked up to Mello. "Chocolate?"

"Yeah. Trust me, it works." He laughed. Halle smiled and opened the foil wrappings, breaking off a piece and dropping it on her tongue.

"Gevanni, you're not practicing?" L noted.

Gevanni was leaning up against another wall, closer to the couches this time. "I don't need to." He said. "I know the beat and rhythm of the songs perfectly."

The moment he spoke, the doors by the stairs opened and loud music poured in, drowning out all sound they made and smothering them in guitar notes and singing. Alex and Christy were the ones who'd opened the doors, ready for _Backup_ to slither themselves in after they finish their song. That would be soon, L realised as an odd feeling stirred in his stomach. Soon he'd be reunited with his ex-rival, his other half, the boy he once knew.

"_I'm a slave, and I am a master  
>No restraints and, unchecked collectors<br>I exist through my name, to self-oblige  
>She is something in me, the darkness finds"<em>

"I know this song!" Mello exclaimed. "One of my favourites."

Mello liked _this_? Beyond Birthday's dark music that gave you a chance to peer right into the depths of his soul? L could hear Beyond begin to scream his heart out into the microphone.

"_SHE ISN'T REAL!  
>I CAN'T MAKE HER REAL!<br>SHE ISN'T REAL!  
>I CAN'T MAKE HER REAL!"<em>

L shielded his ears with his hands. "I hate heavy metal."

"That's ironic. We do hard rock. We're only one peg away from Beyond, you know." Halle added. She earned a glare.

The music slowed before coming to a gentle stop. The crowds were screaming loudly, cheering, filled with excitement and burning with ecstatic, energetic fuel.

Beyond raised both of his arms up in the air, Matt followed with his drum sticks, Naomi and Aiber both did, guitar pics in hand while their other arms supported their guitars. Beyond was drenched with sweat. His black hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes clung to his skin.

"FUCK ALL OF YOU!" Beyond yelled out into the microphone. To _Justice_'s surprise, the crowds went wild.

Loud laughter filled the stage, room and hallways as it echoed its way down the stairs. One by one, _Backup_ began to share the room with _Justice_. Matt, the drummer, Aiber, the bassist, Naomi, the guitarist and finally Beyond, both the singer and guitarist. L really began to hope that Beyond didn't recognise him. He moved into a crouch and buried his head between his knees. Wild, spiky black hair sticking out to give away his position.

"They fucking loved us!" A man clad in sweat soaked blue skinny jeans and a dark grey tee shirt exclaimed. His hair shone bright red in the dim lighting and his face began to copy when he flicked on his lighter and lit up a cigarette, before it went as dim as the room again.

"Ah, this must be _Justice."_ Naomi Misora brought up tiredly as she placed her electric guitar into a stand behind the couch L was hunched over in.

"_Justice, _eh." Another man laughed.

"Hey. I'm Miheal Keehl, this is Stephen Gevanni, Halle Lidner, and L Lawliet."

There it was. His name. _L Lawliet._ Now, there was no way he could hide from Beyond Birthday. He'd have to face him. Adult to adult. Man to man. They were no longer boys. He had to face him at some point. L sighed and pulled himself out of the protective crouch he had. He forced himself to a stand, ran his fingers through his messy black spikes and finally allowed himself to lay eyes upon each one of the members. Matt. Naomi. Aiber. Beyond.

"I am L." L dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Hello, L." Beyond grinned widely at him. His eyes, they were still red and sparkling. His grin still left a twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach. His hair was still dyed black. His hair was cut to preciseness, unlike L's. It perfectly framed his face and perfectly stuck out in all directions, even though it hung limply and was drenched with sweat. It seemed to be the only thing about him that really seemed different. He was still taller than L, his shoulders still broader, his muscles still prominent. He still looked like a boy, all in all. A very tall and muscular boy. "Why so silent?" He chided. "Don't you remember me…?"

It took too many seconds for L to suddenly realise what else seemed a bit…. Different. "Your accent." He rubbed his bottom lip. "It's American."

"Well _duh!"_ Matt piped up. "Of course it's American! What else did you expect?"

L ignored Matt as he continued to stare at Beyond Birthday critically. "Why? You're not American. You're just as British as I am."

Both bands suddenly screwed their faces up in confusion.

"L, are you ok?" Mello's deep Russian accent poured out over the two.

Beyond's lips curled into a large grin. "Ok, you caught me." He laughed loudly, voice melting over the American with the English. "You really do have an amazing memory, L. It's been so long, I thought you'd forgotten that I'm English, born and bred."

Everybody was gaping, they both noticed. Nobody could believe his harsh, British, _true_ way of speaking. It suited him a lot better than the American, though, a few band members seemed to subconsciously agree.

"How could I forget?"

Beyond began to chuckle. His ribs soon began to ache before he suddenly burst out into loud laughter. "Of course. Not after all our… escapades."

"What is he talking about…?" Matt trailed off.

Mello's eyes suddenly widened to the size of dinner plates and he quickly turned to L. "_L?_ You're…?"

L sent a hard glare Mello's way. "Sh. We can talk about this later." He hissed.

"No. NOW." Mello grabbed onto the sleeve of L's shirt and tugged and harshly pulled him through the two bands. Halle asked where they were going but it went ignored as Beyond started to laugh again. Mello shoved L into the same room their equipment had been placed in and smashed his palm into the centre of his chest, landing him hardly, back against the wall. "Why the _fuck_ didn't you tell me anything?"

"Tell you _what? _That I know him better than his supposed 'friends' do?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you fuck head. Why didn't you tell me that you were _fucking_ him?"

"Nobody said _anything_ about 'fucking'." L grumbled, ears burning red.

"Bull shit. I'm not as soft in the head as you think I am! The way you two were looking at each other, the tone of your voice towards him, and him towards you, you'd have to be soft in the head _not_ to notice! You're his ex, aren't you?"

L didn't say anything. Instead he tried to shimmy his way out from under Mello's strong palm, but Mello shoved him back, gripping tightly onto both of his shoulders. "Why didn't you even _tell_ me that you're gay! I'm your fucking _best friend!"_

"Because I'm _not_ gay, Mello." L stated. "Nor am I bisexual." He continued. "I haven't got a sexuality. I just… "

"Don't give me that shit." Mello hissed. "Ok, here's the deal. You tell me everything. Spill your guts to me right now, and I'll spill mine."

"What have _you_ got to hide, Mello?"

"-the fuck? This world doesn't just revolve around _you!"_

L sighed, forcing himself to relax under Mello's hold over him. "Fine. I suppose I trust you well enough." Actually, it was just curiosity. There was something about Mello he didn't know about. He could give Mello the edited version of his story and Mello would probably do the same but if he was lucky…. "Alright. Beyond and I grew up in England together as boys. We were rivals. We became lovers. Never boyfriends. So there you have it. I'm not gay."

Mello's eyebrows furrowed. _'That was it?'_ His mind growled. It was the best he was going to get, he knew that for sure. And he _did_ make a promise. There wasn't really a way he could cut corners with what he was intending to tell him. What he'd been _wanting_ to tell him for quite a while. "I am." He choked out.

"What?" L gaped.

"I… I am."

"You're –"

"Gay." Mello cut in.

.-.

"I'm so glad that I got time off work to go out with you, today." Kiyomi Takada smiled brightly at Light who was in the process of taking off his shoes so he could actually be let in the house.

Light grinned at her. "Well I figured it'd be nice to get a break from studying." He said with a cheer in his voice that left the edges rough and haggard, not that Kiyomi noticed, of course. "I've spent the past week cooped up in my bedroom just rewriting and rereading note after note for the calculus test coming up soon."

"I have no doubt you will come top of the class, like usual." She giggled. Light resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he'd come top of the class. He was a genius.

"Oh, I can only hope. Many of my classmates certainly know what they're doing." Well, _some_ of them, at least. He knew that he'd raise above all of them, even the class pet who always had the answer to everything – whatever his name was – the little annoying know it all who always sending weird glances his way and smirking, like he _knew_ something about him. It drove Light up the wall because every time he turned, that know-it-all was just _there!_ He may have been smart, but he wasn't at Light's level. Light was better than him.

Light and Kiyomi left the house moments later, walking down the street together in a one-sided conversation on Kiyomi's part. They were headed to the cinema to watch some cheesy rom-com that Kiyomi had picked out. Light didn't really care, he just needed to be seen outside of school with his girlfriend. People were beginning to think they'd broken up and he didn't need a mountain-load of girls asking to be his rebound or offering for him to cry on her shoulder. Pathetic, Light would never do that. This was the advantage of having a possessive-as-she-was girlfriend like Kiyomi – others would back off and give him space. He couldn't say much about the guys trying to be his friend so they can 'hang out' together so they can raise their popularity, either.

The cinema, thankfully, wasn't too crowded. A few people rushed out as they both entered. Kiyomi gripped onto Light's hand when she noticed that a few of the girls were plainly ogling _her_ boyfriend. Light didn't care about the girls ogling him and he didn't care that Kiyomi had a death-lock grip on his hand, possibly removing all circulation from it, too. The two shifted through the crowds. Face after face slithered in and out of his vision until he noticed just one. One with long black hair and a large pair of glasses framing his face.

"Mikami. Mikami Teru, that's his name!" He came to a realisation. The class pet. The know it all. The one who stares at him and follows him everywhere he goes, at school.

"What?" Kiyomi piped up.

"Oh, nothing." Light shook his head, and smiled at his 'girlfriend'. He decided to ignore Mikami, pretending that he hadn't seen him, and confront him later. When he wasn't on a date. Light tightened his grip on Kiyomi's hand. "I just realised something, is all!" He laughed.

"And what's that?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow.

Light raced through his mind, trying to fit it somewhere plausible, but it drew a blank. He opened his mouth, ready to speak out whatever he could think of, even though there was nothing.

"Hi, Yagami-kun!"

Light suddenly froze on the spot before he began to thaw himself out of the hypothetical ice and turn. "Mikami-kun, right?"

"You two _know_ each other?" Kiyomi sounded like she was in a mixture of disbelief and distaste.

"Of course!" Mikami grinned. "We go to the same school and have all the same classes!"

"That's right." Light smiled at him, trying to resist grinding his teeth together.

"And we're going to be in the same band!" He added enthusiastically.

"A _band?_ Light-kun, he's kidding, right? _You_ can't join a band! You- you're not –"

"No, I'm not." He confirmed_. 'What the hell is wrong with this guy?'_

Mikami laughed heartily and slapped Light on the back, as if they were best friends. "He's just kidding. Of course he's in a band, Takada-chan!"

Light wanted to gape at him, but instead he thinned his lips into a line. "Mikami-_san_, when Amane _Misa _asked-"

"You spoke to Amane Misa? That girl that basically _lives_ in the detention room and dresses like a.. Light-kun, I thought you knew better than to associate yourself with people like _her!" _

Light rolled his eyes. _'Mikami. You idiot.'_ "Kiyomi-chan, no, I do not associate myself with her! She just came up to me and asked me to sing for her band!"

"You can sing?"

"Well yeah, but, _no! _ I can't! Not properly!"

"A voice like yours could make angels fall from the heavens." Mikami droned as a large smile creeped across his lips. All conversation between Light and Kiyomi was shut off immediately as they placed their undivided attentions on him. "What?"

"That was a little weird, Mikami-_san."_ Kiyomi sneered.

Mikami's face suddenly burst into bright, berry red. "Uh. Well. If you change your mind, Light, you could talk to me or Misa at school." He quickly shuffled off.

Light felt more than relieved once he was gone. He turned back to Kiyomi who was glaring sharply at him. "You will _not_ speak to Amane-san! Got it?"

'Kiyomi-chan… you know I wouldn't. _You're_ my girlfriend, after all."

"How'd it go?" Misa asked, greeting Mikami by the front door of his house.

"Not so good." He replied with a melancholy attitude. "He just doesn't want to join."

"Well then we'll _make_ him join!" Misa declared, kicking off her shoes so she'd be let into her friend's house.

"But how?" Mikami groaned. "He has a possessive girlfriend who wouldn't even let him, even if he _wanted_ to, I'm sure about it."

"Well we need to persuade him. Have you found out what bands he likes, yet? We could convince him that with his voice, we'd become just as big as _that_ band!"

Mikami gave her a deadpan stare. "Yeah, because _that's_ really going to work. Why don't _we_ just form a band and be like _The White Stripes_. Just us. We both can sing. We both play many instruments. We both write songs."

"You're forgetting, I can barely play guitar like you can. Plus, it'd be too much trouble for us _both_ to just do everything together. How will we get famous that way? We aren't _'The White Stripes'_, Teru-kun. We are _Kira._ Or, we will be once we get Light."

Mikami sighed. "How do you know he can even sing? You've only heard him _talk._"

"That's not true." Misa grinned. "I've definitely heard him sing, before. My father runs functions every year, kind of like a talent quest. There's karaoke, bands, music. He does it to raise money for the church, _but who cares!_ I've heard Light singing and he is good! He was there last year and the year before. His father is in the police force and thinks it's a good deed to the community to bring his family to those functions."

"So…? That doesn't explain how we'll get him to join our would-be band."

"We'll spring it on him again. We'll make sure that he has no choice but to say 'yes'. I don't think he knows that _I know_ about that karaoke he loves so much, anyway." Misa placed her forefinger with a black painted fingernail to her ruby red bottom lip.

"Blackmail." Mikami laughed. "Genius."

Light yawned tiredly as he closed the front door to his house behind him, slowly pulling his shoes off his feet one by one. He dropped them to the floor, too lazy and exhausted to even consider being careful about them. Kiyomi had carted him around _everywhere _after the movie and they saw _everybody_ along the way. He was tired of talking, tired of speaking and most of all, tired of thinking. Sayu was watching some music program when he entered the lounge room and collapsed on the couch.

"Oh, hey Light. How'd your date go?" She asked pleasantly despite the fact that her eyes were thoroughly absorbed by the images on TV.

"It went well." Light felt another yawn coming through as he spoke. "What are you watching?" He asked, not that he was actually that interested.

"Music festival in America." She smiled. "_L_ is coming on next." She cheekily poked her tongue out at Light. "He's still hotter than _you_."

"I'm your brother. You shouldn't even think of me that way." Light mumbled with a lazy laugh, resting his head on the arm of the chair he sat on.

The darkened stage on screen suddenly lit up and all the members of the band were already on stage. L was, as Sayu had put it, pretty hot in person… even if the camera was zoomed out and not even close up. He was tightly gripping onto the microphone with one arm and holding onto the neck of his guitar with the other. He and Mello shared a glance, Mello looked over to Halle who nodded and Halle grinned at Gevanni in the back, seated behind his drum kit.

"They're going to play some songs from their new album!" Sayu giggled. "I can't wait!"

"_It's so nice to be here in America on such a gorgeous morning as this one."_

L spoke into the microphone. His voice was loud and deep, sending shivers through both Light's and Sayu's spine. Subtitles in Japanese spread across the bottom of the screen but Light had a fluent understanding of the English language and didn't really need to read them to understand what he was saying. The large groups of people clustered together, jumping up and down in front of the large stage, were screaming and chanting.

"_And it feels like such an honour to be playing at an event such as this, being the following act to _Backup_, too. It was definitely worth a night without a beer or two!"_

Light closed his eyes, but continued on listening to everything L was saying. Sayu was curled up on the other side of the couch watching intently as L took a step back from the microphone, turned to Halle again and then back to the crowds when heavy, rhythmic guitaring and drumming suddenly exploded through their instruments that seemed so small from the angle the camera was on. Gevanni's drumming followed on, louder than the guitars until the rhythm guitarist caught up and the bassist followed along with the tune.

"_You're my friend, you're not like them, _

_but I caught your lie, and you know I did_

_Now I've lost to you, like I always do,_

_And I'll die to win, coz I'm born to lose"_

L began slowly into the microphone and the music reached a heavier rhythm as he stepped back again the moment Mello's bass began to get louder and louder.

"_Firefly, could you shine your light _

_Now I know your ways, coz they're just like mine,_

_Now I'm justified, as I fall in line_

_And it's hard to try, when you're open wide"_

Light opened his eyes again. The music continued to get louder and louder and L's strong voice began to overpower his own thoughts. The camera had moved closer to the stage. You could clearly see L screaming into the microphone, Halle bent over strumming on her guitar and Gevanni bashing his drums. Mello wasn't too clear as he was on the other side of the camera, closer to Gevanni.

"_Take my hand, we'll be off and then,_

_We'll come back again to a different land_

_Now I like this way, you can go away_

_If you can guess the name, you cannot replace"_

"I don't mind this band." Light admitted.

Sayu grinned widely at her brother out of surprise. She'd never thought of him as a music lover. She always thought that he'd be the last person on Earth to _ever_ like a band. Especially one that makes music like _this._ Well there you go; there's hope for humanity, after all.

**Finally done! Took me a while! So now the plot will finally begin MWAHAHAHAAHAH!**

**Also, I'm going to shove many more songs from real bands in. Anyone heard of Madseason? Grinspoon? Red Hot Chili Peppers? Eh. You will see, you will see! I hope people like my choice of music though ;D **

**So Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, humans! :)**


	5. If I get your kiss

**Hey guys! First off, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed, favourite and started following the story! It means a lot to me!**

**I had a sleepless night a few days ago and thought 'hey why not start a new chapter for Haters Make Me Famous'? So I did and never have I ever been happier… *cough***

**Disclaimer: I deny ownership of 'Death Note'…. Or do I?**

**Songs used:**

'**So Cold' by Breaking Benjamin.**

_Chapter Five_: _If I get your kiss, I'm another to the list!_

The morning assembly seemed to drag for longer than what it normally would, that morning. The weather was starting to get noticeably cooler and the sky was grey with thick clouds possibly suggesting rain for later that day.

Light Yagami was sitting with his back straight, legs crossed and folder seated neatly on his lap with his backpack by his side. His mind was out of focus, despite his effort to have the perfect posture. He was barely paying attention to the notices the principal was announcing. All he was thinking about was that damned Mikami guy. That damned, obviously homo and obsessive guy that kept following him around like a stupid puppy… with long hair and glasses.

Mikami was staring at him from across the quadrangle. Why? Was he… checking him out? Or did Light have something on his face that he never seemed to notice, these days? Was Light ugly? Or was he insanely attractive? Light, self-consciously, touched his own face in search of _something _to fix or clean off but found nothing.

He averted his eyes from the teen and back to the front of the assembly where the principal was complaining about god knows what. Light turned his head the opposite way from his stalker and saw Misa Amane with her cherry red lips that seemed to stick out like a sore thumb compared to all the other girls in their year group, who chose not to wear makeup to stay in line with the school rules. She turned her head and caught his eye with her disturbing, pale blue contacts. She smiled at him with nothing but a tug from the corner of her lips that sent a tremor of worry to settle in his stomach.

The day was already horrible for Light. His first subject of the day was that dreaded 'Creative Writing' class. Why couldn't it have been something fun like 'Ancient History'? Instead he had to deal with a bunch of idiots who considered themselves as 'artists' who liked to 'express their character' with coloured hair and piercings when really, they were nothing but deranged hipster fools. He sat at the back of the classroom, again, in the same sport he sat in before. His classmates always sniggered whenever he answered a question for Matsuda-sensei. It was the first time Light had ever been mocked for his intelligence and he didn't like it.

After the class had finished, Light had high hopes that his day would begin to get better once he started mingling with his 'friends' and talking to his 'girlfriend' but everytime he turned around, no matter where he was, he saw Teru Mikami. While Light was the centre of the large group he was situated in, Mikami wasn't too far behind. At one point, he pushed himself in to become a part of that large group around him, but soon he stood a few metres off, still in good viewing and listening distance.

The next day, Light had a free period while many of his friends were still in class, obviously including Mikami who was nowhere to be seen.

Light sighed out of heavy relief as he made his way to a large, wide-spread green field in the back of his school, dropped his schoolbag and folder and sat beneath a large, dark-wooded and leafy tree. The shade was thick and cooled Light's skin further than what the air had already done to him. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The silence was bliss but soon enough, he found himself digging through one of the pockets of his schoolbag in search of his iPod… well, it was actually Sayu's iPod, which was easy to tell as the case was bright pink and sparkly and covered in stickers of hearts and stars. Light didn't care. She hadn't noticed that it had gone missing, anyway.

He'd plugged it into iTunes on his laptop, removed most of the files already saved on there and filled it up with his new favourite band's music which he'd just bought at that moment, the night before.

He shoved the headphones into his ears, and pressed play and the loud music began to pour out in deep rhythms that sent his head spinning.

The leaves in the trees rustled and Light assumed it was just a breeze. Little did he realise, there was no wind and it was nothing but one branch that shook as the weight of another teenager began to shift on top.

Light stretched his back and tucked his arms behind his head. He was slowly becoming more absorbed in the song he was listening to, oblivious to the fact that the lyrics were streaming out of his mouth.

_"Crowded are cleared away, one by one_

_Hollow heroes separate, as they run_

_You're so cold, keep your hand in mine_

_Wise men wonder, while strong men die"_

He wasn't as good as L, the actual singer, but the teen hidden inside the tree fumbled as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tried to load the video recording option so he could capture this once-in-a-lifetime moment. His hands were sweating, and he was dumbfounded about Light Yagami being talented in something that was actually _cool!_

"_Show me how to end this, alright_

_Show me how defenseless you really are_

_Satisfy an empty inside_

_But that's alright, let's give this another try"_

The teen in the tree finally hit the 'record' button halfway through the song that Light was singing and only got a few long seconds of it before he lost his footing on the branch he was perched on and fell forwards with a loud yelp, landing roughly on Light's stomach and lap, winding both teens simultaneously.

The pain throbbed sharply in the centre of his chest and he was rendered stiff by the mass of the other body landing on top of him. Light's headphones were knocked out of his ears and the sound of the loud guitars and singing of the song he was listening to was easily heard. All Light knew, was that his secret love for the rock band _Justice_ was as good as ruined.

"Get off me!" He yelled and a white sneaker was propelled into his nose as the teen on his body responded to Light's demand and attempted to roll off. The pressure on Light's torso was lifted and Light curled over, cupping his face as blood began to pool out of his stinging and now bruised nose.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Light-kun!" The other teenager crawled over to him on his knees and grabbed onto Light's shoulder in an attempt to pull him back enough to check the damage.

Light caught sight of the tree-hopping fool of a teenager. "_Mikami-san?"_ He gaped. Mikami, of all people, why did it have to be _him?_ His _stalker, _of all people, to be hiding in that god-damn tree? Fate really did seem to hate him, he realised. "What the hell were you doing in that tree?" His voice was muffled by his hands but the shrill snap of annoyance was prominent.

"I had a free period…" Mikami trailed off weakly. Light still hadn't noticed that Mikami's hand was still firmly grasping his shoulder until he started rubbing it in slow circular motions. Light shoved him away, accidently smearing blood on his clean white button up shirt.

Light scooped up his sister's iPod with his left hand and shoved it inside his bag, cheeks burning bright red as his right hand continued to cup his bleeding nose.

That afternoon, Light was really hoping that the day wouldn't get any worse for him. He'd packed away his books and notes from the last class of the day into his folder and tucked it under his arm while swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He lived about three large blocks away from the school and made it a habit to walk home every afternoon.

He kept mulling over what had happened earlier that day; he was caught _singing_ to a freaking rock band! What made it worse, was that it was Mikami who'd caught him! Now Light really was screwed, because Mikami was continuing to pressure him into joining his band, Light lied and basically told him that he 'sounded like a drowning cat' when he tried to sing and _whoopdidoo_, he'd been caught out, now he probably _had_ to join so that no word about his music preferences and singing talent got out. Not that being able to sing was a bad thing, of course; it's just that his father Soichiro would see it as a distraction to his future career path; that music was unproductive and pointless for his son. Soichiro barely ever let him enter in those karaoke contests that were held every year at some stupid function he was forced to go to.

As Light rounded the corner of his street and found his house tucked in behind a few thick trees, he noticed on the driveway was a different car to the ones that his parents owned. Light's eyebrows furrowed together suspiciously. He was desperately hoping Misa or Mikami had shown up the doorstep of his house – but wait, they didn't know where he lived, did they? No, of course they didn't. It could have been one of Soichiro's work friends… but he kept his work and family life separate… It could have been his mother, Sachiko, having some friends over? But then again, she didn't go out that often. But what about Sayu? She was too young to drive, being only fourteen and Light doubted she had any older friends who _could_ drive.

Then whose car was it? It was a 2009 shiny red Honda Civic. It looked pretty new for a model a few years old, and very expensive. That was quite suspicious because he'd never seen the car before in his life.

Light turned the doorknob of his front door to get in, but found it to be locked. With a loud, exasperated sigh, he tapped on the window beside it quite loudly and waited a minute, but got no response. Grumbling, Light placed his folder on the ground and swung his backpack around so he could dig through it to find his keys. After two or three minutes of rummaging, the door opened.

"Ah, Light! Glad to see me?" A familiar voice cheerfully and loudly exploded.

There were no honorifics after his name was called. Either this person was extremely rude or… this was family who was talking to him. Light looked up and his heart sank to the floor. And he was hoping this day wouldn't get any worse; It was his cousin Ryuk!

.-.

The night's air was warmer in America than it was in England, L noted as he stripped into a thin teeshirt and his usual baggy jeans. Mello was wearing nothing but a pair of black jeans, his Doc Marten's and his rosary that he never seemed to take off. He'd discarded his sweat drenched shirt hours ago. Halle had changed into a light dress and Gevanni was wearing a tight black tee shirt.

Beyond Birthday was wearing nothing but a pair of low cut skinny jeans, Aiber changed into a bright red Hawaiian shirt with all the buttons undone, Naomi was wearing a tanktop and shorts and Matt hadn't really changed at all.

Behind the stage was hot. Both of the bands had been suffering of suffocation due to the stuffy air. It didn't help that the small room was filled to the brim of people, either. Eleven people; two bands, two security guards and two band managers. Alex and Christy were just about to leave, but _Backup_ and _Justice_ weren't allowed. The crowds outside were too thick and still wild. It was too dangerous for them. They'd played for about an hour all up in the late morning to early afternoon and right then, it was about ten at night. They were told they probably wouldn't be able to leave until about midnight. Two hours left. L was on the count down.

"Well, L, we should catch up some time again, eh? It's been too long since we've last seen each other… more privately…" Beyond whispered a drunken slur into L's ear. L leaned away with a grimace of disgust.

"The last time we were alone together, you practised your little sadistic acts on me so much I ended up with several fractures in my ribs. Do you think I'd really want to do that again?" L hissed quietly to him. He was trying to avoid anybody overhearing him because if they start asking questions to a fuller extent than what Mello had, then L would have just told them rudely to their faces that 'it's none of their fucking business' and that would probably cost_ Justice_ their contract with Backup therefore losing a perfect business opportunity to gain a lot of money in a short time. _Justice_ wouldn't be happy with him if that were the case.

Matt was busy playing Pokémon on his DSi to notice anything that was happening around him; that Beyond and Aiber were completely wasted, Naomi was smoking dope, Halle and Gevanni were making out in the corner thinking that no one could see them and L was on his wit's end – completely agitated for god knows what. Well… Matt was paying a _little_ attention but it was mostly piqued when Mello, that absolute hotty for an effeminate man sat down next to him. He didn't once look at Matt, rather at the grungy, gritty looking wall instead. He didn't seem like he was drunk or high, yet he was holding a half empty bottle of Smirnoff Vodka mixed in with Coca Cola that he'd poured in himself. He was probably bored like he was, Matt decided.

Matt paused his game and closed the DSi. "Hey, I'm Matt." He had to speak up over the obnoxious drunken conversations everyone was having over the top of each other, the music blaring out of Beyond's iPod dock and even the echoed thudding of someone's band playing off in the distance.

Mello turned to look at him. His eyes were icy and sent a chill down Matt's spine. Mello was brooding something by the hard glint that was held in his eyes. Matt licked his lips nervously, remembering his craving for cigarettes. Mello was hotter close up than what he was from a distance.

"Miheal Keehl. You can call me Mello if you want." He eventually answered. His words were honeyed over with a thick, noticeable Russian accent that made Matt's skin feel hot. Matt was horny when he was slightly drunk and tired, he could admit.

"Uh, my real name is Mail Jeevas. It's spelt like 'mail' like the mailman for instance, but pronounced as 'mile' like the movie '8 Mile'." Matt tugged on a shaggy red tuft of hair on the back of his head. He felt like he'd die without a cigarette, right then.

"Yes, I could tell that's how you pronounce the name when you told me what it was." Mello commented with a condescending hint in his tone of voice and a sharp roll of his eyes. Matt chuckled nervously. "Nice name, by the way." Mello added.

"Thanks." Matt felt himself go red, but that horny feeling wouldn't leave, no matter how awkward it felt to continue talking to this guy. "I like your name too."

Mello didn't reply for a few long seconds and then he lifted up his bottle of Smirnoff, took a deep sip and wiped his mouth. He looked to Matt. "Wanna fuck?"

Mello dragged Matt to the back room where all their amps and instruments had been locked up earlier; the same room Mello had come out to L in. Mello's mind wasn't on that, right then, though. The room was just a convenient space of privacy where Mello could make Matt sore for weeks.

He pushed Matt against the wall with a strong, forcible shove and kissed him while firmly pressing his hands against his chest. Matt was an awful kisser, Mello learned as Matt tightened his fingers into Mello's hair and kissed him back, opening his lips in the slightest and bringing his tongue forth. Mello bit Matt's lip hard enough for him to jump and yelp.

"Stop trying to lead. You're a horrible kisser." Mello hissed at him and nipped his neck before sucking on the spot to make a noticeable hickey. Matt ran his hands across Mello's chest. He was sort of glad that Mello wasn't wearing a shirt from the get-go because it was too hot, but now, Matt was even gladder because now he didn't just have to perv on the blonde, but he had the opportunity to claim it as his, if just for the night.

Mello lifted up the hem of Matt's grey shirt and attempted to pull it off over Matt's head. Matt had to tug it off and discard it for him, though, because it was tight and clung to his skin.

Mello's hips started rocking back and forth, tightly against Matt's crotch as his hands slid down Matt's sides as his eyes devoured the sight of Matt's muscular torso. Matt was placing kisses on Mello's neck and jawline before pressing one on Mello's lips. Mello's tongue licked at Matt's lips and Matt's tongue met his half way. They slightly rubbed together as Matt began to grind his crotch against Mello's and they mutually pulled away from the kiss with a string of drool keeping them attached.

"Who's on top?" Matt asked. His voice sounded so unlike what he was used to; it sounded deeper, huskier even.

"Me." Mello laughed darkly as he began to undo Matt's leather belt and jeans, letting them fall till they barely clung onto Matt's hips.

Mello shoved his hand down Matt's pants and Matt let in a sharp intake of breath by how cold Mello's hands felt as his fingers gripped onto his shaft and with a slightly difficult motion, he started pumping it back and forth, but it wasn't enough. Mello seemed to have no objection when Matt began to undo Mello's belt and tug down his tight jeans. Mello slid his hand out of Matt's pants as Matt fell to his knees, pulling Mello's underwear out of the way so he could take his full length in the mouth. Mello exhaled deeply and tightly weaved his fingers through his red hair and thrusted his hips forward. Matt made an audible choke sound and quickly pulled away; Mello accidently pulled out a bit of Matt's hair in the meantime.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Matt demanded. "I suck your dick for you and you try to choke me?"

"It's called 'deep throating', Matt." Mello rolled his eyes as if it was the simplest and most innocent thing in the world.

"I know what it is, dumbass!" Matt grabbed onto Mello's length again. "Just don't do it again." He said, poking his tongue out to lick the tip of Mello's shaft, tasting drops of precum and trying not to screw up his face in disgust. Matt hated giving blowjobs.

"Whatever." Mello hissed as he began to pump his own length as Matt began to lick away at it with gentle strokes with the tip of his tongue.

"You'd better not jizz on my face." Matt growled.

"Shut up and suck. Or would you rather me fuck you, now?"

Matt bounced up off the ground. "Just do it, already, faggot." He sighed. Never had Matt ever thought that hooking up with somebody would turn into such a chore. It was supposed to be fun, wasn't it? Not a drag with bitter words spat between the two.

"You're one to talk." Mello laughed more to himself. "What position to do you want to do?" He offered. He felt like being nice to Matt, just this once; it's what he did with all his 'lovers' though. He'd let them choose the position the first time they screwed, every other time was a no-no. Mello just refused to bottom and that was a rule he lived by.

"Uhm, I dunno." Matt shrugged. "What about missionary?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? That is so boring! How often do you have sex?" Mello arched up. This was literally the first guy he'd ever been with to say that he wanted to be screwed in the 'missionary' position. "Are you actually gay or are you just lonely?"

Matt screwed up his face as annoyance began to swell through him. "I have sex all the time, just not often with guys, _geez_. The only position girls want to do is missionary or doggy style! And I'm neither gay or lonely, I'm bi-fucking-sexual!" He declared.

"That makes me even happier that I'm not jumping on your dick, then." Mello smirked. "Turn around and face the wall. " He added in a demanding tone. Matt did as he was told as Mello spat onto his forefinger and middle finger and slid them into Matt's entrance after he tugged down his jeans and boxers, moving his fingers in and out and in scissoring motions. Matt's breathing grew heavier and a slight moan escaped him. Mello leaned over and gently bit Matt's neck as he pushed his length inside. Matt's moan tuned into a pained yowl until Mello was fully inside of him.

Mello pushed his chest up to Matt's back and reached around, grabbing onto his hard shaft as Matt's face and chest were pushed flat against the wall. Mello began rolling his hips in slow circular motions till they both grew more comfortable in each other's presence before Mello pulled out till nothing but the tip of his length was still inside and plunging back in. Matt started yowling again. Mello couldn't tell if it was due because of pain or pleasure, but whatever it was, it was making Matt's noises louder and louder, the harder Mello shoved in and out of him.

Both Matt and Mello had forgotten that one of Mello's hands was tightly gripping onto Matt's length until Matt started rubbing at his manhood, up and down, faster and faster as Mello started getting desperate to get off as his movements got harder and deeper.

Where Mello was holding Matt's hip, bruises were already starting to form because of the blonde's tight grip, but Matt didn't care. All that he could think of was of the waves of ecstasy that passed through him everytime Mello managed to hit his prostate and how it might as well be making him harder and harder at each thrust.

Mello pulled out of Matt completely, sweaty and out of breath. Matt was the same.

Mello's hot hand grabbed Matt's shoulder and he turned around. A hard, wet kiss was pressed to Matt's lips as he was caught off guard. Matt kissed him back reluctantly and Mello guided himself back inside of Matt as Matt pressed his back to the wall and wrapped one of his legs around Mello's waist as Mello slowly started to pull in and out of him.

Mello's breathing was getting louder and sharper the quicker he thrusted and Matt couldn't help but to close his eyes as he held Mello close and rested his head on his shoulder. His moaning and grunting was prolonged and loud but he didn't care.

Sweat was dripping off the both of them, but they kept on going. Matt's length was rubbing against Mello's stomach and Matt was continuing to rub himself off with his hand at the same time. The friction was starting to drive him mental and he was on the verge of climaxing as his arms and legs began to shake and his breathing was unsteady and quick.

Matt was in a daze and barely registered it when the door to the room they were in opened up wide and Beyond and Naomi, hand in hand, all over each other entered in the room. The first thing they heard was Matt's moaning, louder and louder, sharper and sharper until he finally gave in and exploded out come all over Mello's torso and his own with one final, loud grunt.

"Wow, Matt. You take it like a girl!" Beyond piped up loud and clear, obviously drunk and still as much of an asshole as he ever was.

Naomi covered her mouth in shock. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She apologised and shoved Beyond back out the door, closing it behind the two so Matt and Mello were alone again.

Mello was still going, but he was trying to finish up quickly. He himself was beginning to climax and when he did, he pulled out and sprayed it all over Matt.

They both collapsed onto the floor in a jumble of arms and legs, out of breath, sweaty and tired.

"Well, that got you to shut up about your name, for a while." Mello laughed, pure exhaustion prominent in his voice.

.-.

**Matt and Mello, hey? Is this the start of a wonderful and sexy relationship or just a one night stand? Well, we shall see ;D**

**But not to worry if your taste is not of the deliciousness of M&M's, there shall be more, eventually…**

**Reviews would be lovely, thankyou ;D**


	6. Can Never Get It Right

**So if you're a fan on my teB360 Facebook page, you would have seen me raging about all of these authors that I love hating on FanFiction and FanFiction authors! How dare they think that we make money from their creations. How dare they accuse us of being lazy and uncreative.**

**This really does anger me. Anne Rice and George R.R Martin have just lost a point of respect, from me. **

**Disclaimer; Yes, I **_**totally**_** think I own Death Note and am **_**totally**_** making a big-ass profit from writing fanfiction.**

**Songs Used: Candyland – Blood On The Dance Floor  
>Also, there are mentions of Eminem :D<strong>

_Chapter 6: _ _We Can't Get It Right, Always Gotta Be A Fight!_

It'd been a week since the concert and Matt was lying curled up under his bed covers. He wasn't sleeping but he couldn't exactly move, either. Matt was too sore to move. It felt like Mello had torn him a new asshole. Matt couldn't exactly remember that entire night and didn't even remember if Mello went rough on him or not, but he obviously had. Matt supposed that the amount of alcohol he consumed would have not only dulled his memory but the agonizing pains of that delicious moment, at the same time.

From his bedroom, he heard his front door begin to rattle with loud knocks that echoed throughout his entire apartment. Matt sighed groggily and pulled the blanket over his head, wishing for whoever the hell it was, to go away. And as much as he enjoyed Mello's… er… _company…_ he hoped that he wasn't coming back for a second round, but then Matt remembered that Mello was probably back in England and despite that, Mello didn't even know where he lived.

The knocking continued persistently and thrummed in Matt's mind over and over again. Matt was glad that his hangover had passed a day after he'd gotten home the week before, otherwise he'd rather jump through his bedroom window and fall a hundred feet flat on the road, then suffer from this. He thought that if he waited a minute or so, the knocking would stop, but Matt barely lasted any longer than three or four seconds before he forced himself to get up and limp towards the door. Every step felt like a knife tearing at his butt. He fumbled at the five locks securing the door to the wall and opened it up wide.

A woman with dark blonde hair tied into a bun stood at the door. She was holding a black handbag and in both of her hands, she was nervously scrunching the shoulder strap. She was wearing a pair of faded blue skinny jeans, black high heels and a fancy white lace top.

"Who are you?" He asked rudely, voice stiff as he tried to mask the blunt throbbing that ached and ached in his lower region.

She scowled at him. "I'm _LINDA._"

It took Matt a few seconds before it finally clicked. "Oh, _Linda!_ I remember!" He felt like an asshole for not remembering sooner; an asshole with a sore asshole.

"You do? You haven't been here for almost two weeks and I don't have your number to contact you."

Matt's eyebrows furrowed. "Why have you been trying to check up on me? And why do you need to contact me…?" What had Matt said or done to make her want to see him again? He _never_ tries to get back in touch with his flings so why did she take it upon herself to try and get back in touch with _Matt_ of all people? Well, there was the factor that he was a rockstar and everything…

"I left my phone here…" She mumbled.

"If you left your phone at my place, then how the hell would you be able to contact me if you _did_ have my number?" This was getting suspicious.

Her eyes hardened into a glare. "I mean my _work_ phone! I've got valuable contacts saved on it and without it, my career is at stake!"

"Well, what exactly _is_ your career?"

"I'm a journalist." She stated flatly with a stony expression.

"Fuck."

Matt didn't mean to drop the F-Bomb out loud; it was supposed to be part of an internal monologue where he complained and called himself stupid for letting a freaking journalist into his own home. She probably stole a pair or two of his underwear or maybe wrote an article called _'In Bed With Matt'._ She may have even mentioned in that article how big he was, how good he was, she might have taken pictures of his butt to post it in the newspapers as page number one – it would be a scandal! And worst of all, that stupid, fake, lying Beyond would never let him live it down. He'd probably save that picture of his butt and stick it on his _Facebook_ page for the entire world to see and probably bring it up all the time and show the picture to all of his other friends!

"Fuck indeed. Fuck for me if I don't find my phone and fuck for you if you don't let me find it." Linda told him. Her voice never raised or lowered an octave the entire time.

"You're probably recording this, aren't you?" Matt accused. "You're wearing a wire and maybe even a secret camera?" Matt looked down at his chest and realised he was shirtless. He self-consciously covered his nipples with each of his hands. "And I'm naked! This is an invasion of privacy!"

"For Christ's sake! I'm not wearing a wire or a hidden camera, and _you're not even naked!_ Even if you were, you wouldn't have anything I've never seen before!" She snapped.

Matt's cheeks were beginning to grow red. "I'm sure you've seen a lot of penis in your life before, so I suppose you're right." He tried not to laugh when Linda suddenly looked so angry, that she was almost foaming at the mouth. Matt caved in and shot out a bout of laughter. "If only looks could kill!"

"Just let me go find my phone." She sighed breathily, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

"Fine. But don't touch anything or steal my underwear." He turned and limped inside.

Linda's heels clicked against the marble floor at each step she took. The noise echoed into the depths of the apartment but Matt didn't really mind. It had rhythm, and on top of that, the best thing about his apartment was the echoing. Whenever he practised on his drums, the noise would annoy the hell out of his neighbours as the sound of his drumming would be absorbed through the walls and floors. That was only if Matt left the door of his 'drumkit room' open because he'd spent a lot of money to thoroughly sound-proof it.

"Question," She piped up, following him inside. "Well, two questions… One, why are you limping? Two, _why the hell would you assume that I'm going to steal your underwear?_ That is so gross!"

Matt froze on spot as a hot, dark red blush came visible upon his cheeks. "Because my underwear is sexy and the world wants to see what kind I wear…? Or maybe you'll send a pair to a scientific research laboratory in Sweden so they can clone me using the pubes left on them to make _Mini Matt's_ that will dominate the earth and make everybody deaf by their constant drumming?"

"What the hell kind of a drug are you on?" Linda stopped all movement a metre away from Matt, probably having second thoughts about ever entering his apartment to retrieve her mobile phone, Matt believed.

"Aspirin…?" Matt suggested, remembering the sharp throbbing pain in his ass whenever he walked, let alone moved.

"Speaking of which, you never answered my first question. Why are you limping? Did you get into a fight, or something? Not that I care, of course."

"If you didn't care, you wouldn't be asking." Matt supplied in response.

A cheeky smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and it grew when he prepared to answer her question. Not that he wanted to answer it because really, it was none of her business, but why not humour the little journalist a little? Maybe Matt would get more male dates if she adds it to her article called _'In Bed With Matt'_ that she was probably writing… not that he had any solid evidence that she actually _was_, of course.

"Anyway, I had a hot guy inside of my ass, if you _must_ know." Matt shrugged.

Linda suddenly seemed rigid. "What? Could you rephrase that…?" She asked, yet Matt could tell that she understood exactly what he'd said.

"Ok. I had another guy put his penis inside of my butthole but I was too drunk to realise how rough he was. God, there's no such thing as chivalry these days, is there? It'd be nice if he had been a bit more gentle." Matt grumbled to himself, trying his hardest to hide his laughter behind a metaphoric brick wall.

Linda's jaw fell slack. "G-gay sex? You had gay sex?" She choked out.

"Well, technically, _yes_. But I'm not gay, just for the record." Matt started to limp his way back to his bedroom, Linda slowly followed, obviously still in shock.

"How could you not be gay if you had gay sex? Or… are you just lonely…?"

That was the second time someone had asked him if he was lonely for having 'gay sex'. Matt just called it 'sex' to be honest. It made not a difference to 'hetero sex' but the hetero people don't go around calling sex 'hetero sex', do they?

"I'm not lonely. I've got bitches lined up everywhere." Matt poked his tongue out at her in a cheeky manner as a way to insinuate that she was 'one of his bitches' because she came back for more, as Matt initially thought when he eventually remembered who she was. But then again, maybe she _hadn't_ actually lost her phone, maybe she really _was_ looking for another round? Matt was too sore to be on top, if that was the case.

Once they got to his bedroom, Linda stepped in and recognised the dark atmosphere, the scent and the aura of the room as a bout of nostalgia hit her sorely in the head. "Do you ever open your curtains?" She asked.

"Nope."

Without another word, Linda stepped over piles of what she hoped were clothes and other pieces of junk towards the curtains and pulled them wide open. The light that poured through the wide windows nearly blinded her by the magnitude of the brightness. She turned and the entire room was lit up and everything looked exactly the same as it had two weeks beforehand.

"You're a really lazy kind of guy, aren't you, Matt?" She noted, eyeing over the piles of clothing, scrunched paper and films of dust that stuck of the top of all of his furniture which was all in the exact same spot to the very last millimetre, as it was on her last visit.

"Yeah. Gonna add that to your little article?" Matt huffed as he gingerly crawled back into bed, trying to be careful of his butt.

"Excuse me?" She kicked away a black tee shirt that looked too tight for Matt to be able to wear, with a grimace.

"Well, you're a journalist, you fucked a rockstar, and if I were you, I'd probably take advantage of that little, uh… _scoop?_ That's the correct jargon, right?"

"There's a line between professional life and personal life, Matt. There's no way I'll ever write an article on how you and I met up at a bar one drunken night and got it on so hard that we forgot about it the next day."

Matt wasn't even watching her as she spoke as he began to crack each one of his knuckles and joints in each of his fingers whilst staring at the ceiling. He barely even noticed when Linda's calm façade began to change and her voice lowered into something almost unrecognisable. Lazily, Matt's gaze crawled towards her. She suddenly dropped her handbag to the floor and pounced onto his mattress, edging towards him.

"What are you doi-" Matt's shocked words were cut off as Linda's right arm planted beside Matt's head so she could lean over his entire body and place a horribly wet kiss upon his lips.

"I want you. Ever since that night, I couldn't stop thinking about you." She pulled off her lace top and discarded it to the floor as she manoeuvred herself to straddle Matt's hips.

"But weren't you here just to look for your phone?" Matt sounded more surprised than what he would have liked to let on. He didn't know where to look, especially when she ripped off her bra.

Should he look at her chest or at her face? What did girls prefer? The face? But she obviously _wanted_ him to look at her boobs!

"That was a lie, Matt. You shouldn't be so trusting. I lied to infiltrate the premises so I could have my way with you."

"_Hey, Beyond… remember when I said that I found a naked woman in my bed with me a few weeks ago…? Well, she's back."_

"_What, she gave you her number and you called her? Gee, Matt, are you _really_ that lonely?"_

"_No! She just showed up and… I had sex with her. I'm scared that after she leaves today, she'll come back again and again in the later weeks."_

"_In all of this, I feel sorry for Mello. You're just going around screwing other girls while he's stuck in England with that weirdo, L."_

"_Hey, Mello and I were just a one-time thing that you weren't supposed to walk in on! We're not together and we're not even attached to each other for Christ's sake! It'll probably never happen again." _

"_Riiiight. That's what they all say." _

With that, Matt hung up. It was weird talking to Beyond, these days. His true accent was just… _ugh_. It grated on Matt's nerves that Beyond had hid it, but in the end, he couldn't blame him. He found English accents really annoying.

.-.

"Mum, what the hell is Ryuk doing here?" Light hissed the moment he got away from his freak of a cousin.

Sachiko was too busy tossing a large salad to look Light's way to know that he was on the verge of ripping his hair out. "Well he, Rem and your uncle Gelus are having family troubles at the moment. Your aunt walked out on Gelus, and well, they need our help, love and support. I said that they could stay here till they land back on their feet."

"What? Rem and Uncle Gelus are here, too?" Light groaned.

"Yes. Also, I hope you don't mind, but Ryuk will be sharing your room and Rem will be sharing Sayu's."

"_WHAT? _But that's _MY_ room! You _do_ remember the last time he was over, right? What he did? What he did to my _room?"_ He protested, his voice cracking. "And you're putting Rem in the same room as Sayu? Rem is a flaming _lesbian!_ What if she tries to come onto Sayu?"

"_Light,_ that's _enough!"_ Sachiko snapped, dropping the salad tossers onto the bench top with a loud metallic _tang_. "Ryuk and Rem are part of your family and you will treat them with respect in their time of need. They are your _cousins,_ for God's sake! They mean well, and Rem would _never_ do something like that!"

Light said nothing as he sullenly turned away and stalked back into the lounge room. Ryuk was splayed out across the entire couch. His combat boots were caked in mud and were pressed against the arm of the chair, leaving marks across the grey material.

"Oh hey, Light! You're out of apples!" Ryuk pulled himself into a seating position and rubbed his hands through his spiky black hair.

Ryuk was a punk. He always wore thick chains around his neck that were connected to a spiky leather dog collar, a dangly earring in the shape of an apple for God's sake, a studded leather vest, leather pants or skinny jeans, sixteen-up _Doc Martens_, always spiked his hair till each strand stood on end on the top of his head and he often wore white face makeup and drew around his eyes in charcoal coloured eyeliner. Hell, sometimes he even wore black lipstick!

Light hated him. He was untidy, rude, vulgar, disrespectful, un-proper and most importantly, highly unpleasant to be around.

"We had a whole basket of them, this morning." Light grumbled as he began to stamp up the stairs.

"Yeah, well… I kinda ate all of them."

"Pig." Light growled too low for anybody but himself to hear.

Light sat on his desk's chair for about half an hour, listening to Sayu's iPod on full blast while he read over his study notes of that day. He hadn't even heard when Ryuk and Sayu began to call out his name or even when they both began to bang against his door. He hadn't heard their laughter or their insults until the song finished into the silent seconds before the next song started playing. He yanked out the earphones, not even bothering to pause the song, threw his notebook back on his desk with a slam and pulled open the door as far as the hinges would let him.

"What?"

"Light, your girlfriend is here!" Sayu laughed.

Ryuk whistled in agreement. "Wow, Light. What a catch. Never thought you'd ever get girlfriend, let alone a _girl like that!"_

"What are you talking about, Ryuk? Kiyomi-chan is a very sensible and refined girl and I have been dating her since the middle of last year!"

Ryuk and Sayu shared a glance. "Her name is Kiyomi? Doesn't suit her." His cousin commented. "Anyway, I'm talking about the fact that I always assumed you were ga-"

"- Well, she's waiting for you right now, Light." Sayu cut in hurriedly, giving Ryuk a sharp glare. If she let Ryuk finish his sentence, then Light was sure to throw a fit. He was such a drama-queen.

Ryuk gave her a weird look which made it obvious that he had no clue as to why he was cut off, but he didn't say anything about it. Light narrowed his eyes.

He thought it must have been urgent if Kiyomi actually showed up at his house. She was normally more polite than that. If she wasn't invited over, she'd call first to see what's happening but she hadn't even texted him, so what did that mean?

Before Light opened the front door, he ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to neaten it and fixed up his dishevelled school shirt that he hadn't bothered to take off, yet. He took a breath to calm himself and opened the door. He froze on spot and felt his rage slowly creep back when he realised _why_ his girlfriend would apparently unexpectedly show up at his doorstep. It was because she wouldn't do that because it wasn't his girlfriend at the door; it was Misa Amane. And suddenly, Ryuk's comments all made sense to him, because Light would _never_ get with a girl like _Misa Amane._ She was more like Ryuk's type… maybe even Rem's!

"Amane-san. How did you find out where I live?" He asked her, biting his tongue in order to avoid grinding his teeth or pulling out his hair in frustration… or pulling out Misa's hair out of frustration…

"I followed you home." She shrugged. "The only reason why I've left it so late to come and knock on your door, is because Teru-kun needed to get something from the shop so we had to leave and come back."

"_Mikami-san_ is here too?" Light stuck his head out of the doorframe and started to look around. He found a black Nissan parked across the road that he'd never seen before, in his life. With a sigh, he grabbed her forearm and dragged her inside. He felt uncomfortable being watched by Mikami everywhere he went and even though she was creepy and annoying, Light felt more at ease with Misa.

Ryuk was leaning against the bannister of the staircase with his arms folded and a permanent grin in place. "What a nice looking girl." He commented. "Didn't know you were into that." Ryuk laughed. Misa giggled and looked back to Light. Sayu was nowhere in sight to stop Ryuk from his constant gay jokes.

It took all of Light's might to stop himself from ripping off Ryuk's head as he dragged Misa upstairs into his bedroom. He ignored Ryuk's large bag he found on the floor beside his bed. It wasn't there when he was in his room moments ago so Ryuk must have taken advantage of Light's opened door.

Misa sat on the end of Light's bed and Light turned his desk's chair around to face her before sitting.

"What do you want?" He demanded. Of course, he already knew what Misa wanted. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Mikami told Misa that he caught him singing. Light could continue to deny it if he wanted, though. They had nothing solid to blackmail him with; it'd just be a rumour that Light would have to use his charm to clear up with everybody, by saying that it was a lie. Nobody would ever know about his love for rock music and his father would never find out that he enjoyed singing.

"Was that your brother?"

"No. That was my cousin. Answer my question, please."

She didn't answer him. Instead, she began searching through her bag and pulling out a lime green USB. "I need to show you something. Mind if I borrow your laptop?"

Light got up from his desk's chair. "Go ahead." He said as Misa sat down and plugged it in. She opened up the USB folder that appeared on the computer screen and clicked the first and only item stored inside.

A video opened and Misa used a keyboard shortcut to bring it to full screen. "The volume is on, right?" She asked and Light just nodded.

The video was blurry at first and the sound was fairly warped but it soon came into focus. There were bright green leaves and some sort of eerie, disembodied humming in the background. A hand shot out from behind the camera and pushed away the leaves to reveal a person sitting underneath who was singing. Light felt rigid. That was _him_. There was a video of _him_ singing to a song by his secret favourite band! The colour drained from his face and he suddenly felt sick. The video started getting blurry again before it went black. There was a loud thumping noise somewhere off in the distance and two voices; one was his and the other was Mikami's.

"_Get off me!"_

"_Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Light-kun!"_

Misa turned the video off. "You lied, Light-kun. You _can_ sing." She rolled the chair around to face him.

The air in the room was stiff and the silence that followed was quite uncomfortable. The sun was beginning to set outside and it made her blue contacts glow with an unnatural hue. Light swallowed dryly and felt sweat beads form on his forehead.

"I can explain." He couldn't face her. He felt so ridiculous, but he couldn't deny the fact that he could indeed sing, especially when that asshole Teru Mikami video-recorded him! He made a mental note to stab him in the face with a pen. Misa was patiently awaiting Light to continue. He took a deep breath. "I… _can_… sing."

"Obviously." She snorted, but Light sent her a hard glare to shut her up.

"My father thinks music is a waste of time, especially for somebody with my potential. He wants me to get into law, like him." Light felt a hot blush adorn his cheeks. "And I don't want to get teased by my friends for having the ability to sing."

Misa raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure your popularity would raise if people knew you could do it. You have talent, Light-kun." Misa's red lips curled into a half-grin. "And I know for sure that my band is going to be famous. We'll be bigger than _Justice, a_nd the person to help make that possible, is you."

Light went rigid. "I _can't,_ Amane-san! I've got too much to do. I need to study. I need to get into a good University. I've got a girlfriend and I've got a reputation to keep. I need to take care of all of that, and joining a band just wouldn't fit." He hissed, annoyance prominent in his voice.

Misa pulled out her USB drive from Light's laptop with a quick tug. "Well, Light-kun, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but if all of that matters to you so much, then I guess I can't ask you to join."

"The answer is no."

"I know. I guess I'll have to _force_ you to join, then. I'll text Teru-kun right now and tell him to upload the video to _YouTube_ right now and post a link to _Facebook_ for all of your little friends to see." She shrugged and pulled out her mobile phone, opening up a new message and quickly tapping in the text.

"What! _No!_ Don't you _dare!"_ Light jolted from his seat and attempted to take away Misa's phone, but she pushed it into her bra before Light got a chance.

"Here's the deal," She began with a heavy sigh as she crossed her legs. "I _won't_ get Teru-kun to upload the video if you agree to be the singer for _Kira._ If you _refuse_, then… well, there's _your_ 'reputation' down the drain."

"Blackmail." Light growled darkly, sending a horrid glare her way.

He couldn't resist letting his composure slip into rage. Nobody _ever_ blackmailed Light Yagami; he was too popular, too _smart_ to fall into a trap such as that, but he just walked right into it. _How did she do it?_ _How did she manage to blackmail him so easily?_ Why didn't Light _realise_ that he was singing at school? She'd have _nothing_ on him if he'd only realised!

Misa twirled a strand of hair and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling before meeting his gaze. "It's only _one_ text that needs to be sent, _Light-kun."_ The way she said his name, so slow, so innocent, it really did not portray the evil that lurked beneath her cute face.

"Fine. I'll join." Light pulled his eyes away from hers as he answered, pride incredibly bruised. He knew that he'd have to keep the fact that he was now a member of a band, a secret now. And if he sang for them, it'd keep them happy, and nobody else would have to know. "But you're dreaming if you think that _'Kira'_ will ever get as big as _Justice._"

"Oh, we certainly _will_ be bigger than them. I'm sure of it."

Before Light got a chance to respond, there was a knock at the door. He sighed out of frustration and yelled out; "Come in."

The doorhandle twisted open and a tall figure peeped inside the room. "Dinner's ready." A shy, yet loud and calm voice told them. The door opened up wider and Light immediately recognised his other cousin, Rem.

He was horrified to see that she had bleached her hair_ white_ for heaven's sake! Rem just looked so _weird_ with white hair. Light barely noticed the pale, lilac purple that was dyed into her ends. She was wearing purple lipstick to match and an elaborate white lace shirt with a high collar and long sleeves that'd been pulled up to reveal pure white bandages wrapped around her knuckles, hands and forearms, that were being worn as fingerless gloves.

Her eyes fell upon Misa for less than a second and then back at Light. "Is she staying for dinner, too?" She asked, a tinge of hopefulness infecting her words.

"No, _actually_, Amane-san was just about to leave." Light grudgingly brought on a polite tone and sent Misa another hard, angry glare.

Misa cheekily poked her tongue out at him and smiled at Rem. "Actually, it's _Misa-chan_. Anyway, I can't keep you for _too_ long, can I, Light-_kun_? After all, Teru-kun is still waiting in the car, for me." She playfully flicked Light's broad chest, but Light brushed her hand away immediately. "I like your shirt, by the way!" Misa mentioned to Rem as Light grabbed her shoulder and pushed her out of his bedroom.

Rem's cheeks visibly went red. "Thank you… Misa-chan."

Light led Misa to the front door, completely disregarding Rem who was awkwardly standing by the mouth of his bedroom. "Good bye, _Misa-chan._" He growled.

He knew that he should have probably been a bit friendlier to Misa because she had the power to make all of his friends dislike him because he knew that she probably would take advantage of that fact.

Misa grinned up at him. "Good bye, Light-kun. See you tomorrow." And the second before Light finally got her to leave, she _hugged him_. She _actually _wrapped her arms around his waist and _placed her blonde head against his chest_, and she did it _without asking!_ She was so rude. To Light, it was an invasion of privacy; he went completely rigid. Misa didn't seem to mind, or maybe even notice. After one or two seconds, she let go, bid him farewell yet again, and left.

_Being blackmailed by Misa is going to be one hell of a ride._ Light realised with distaste.

.-.

"Why did we have to accept the contract with _Backup_?" L groaned, throwing a heavy white jacket into his suitcase. "We _only _just got back from the US last week, and we have to leave _again_ next week?" He pulled open a drawer and picked up a handful of jeans and threw them onto the pile of clothes on top of his suitcase.

"_Relax_, it's only _one_ year. We'll be back and forth from the US and Britain that entire time, _anyway_!" Gevanni grinned.

It was an understatement to say that he was ecstatic about the fact that _Justice_ had three of their songs on the top of the ladder for three different countries; Britain, America and Australia, so there was no way that he was going to discourage L from the contract. L _already_ didn't want to go and _Justice_ had barely gotten him to agree to accepting the contract, but they all knew that their band was getting huge and a contract like this was their ticket to becoming world famous…

"What's your big problem with _Backup_, anyway?" Mello piped up as he picked up the remote for L's sound system and hit the power button. A familiar tune burst out of the speakers, vibrating the windows with bass and piano before it slowed and _Eminem's_ voice echoed out. "Just because you've got a past with Beyond, doesn't mean you shouldn't accept this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"I already _have_ accepted, _dimwit_." L grumbled as he pressed down on the pile of clothing with as much force as he could possbily muster to compress it inside of his suitcase so he could zip it up.

"… _Why_ do you _have_ this song?" Mello broke away from his and L's conversation as he skipped through his playlist. "… what the fuck _is this?"_ Mello gaped and Gevanni burst out into laughter as L's face burst bright red.

"It's _nothing_!" He yelled out defensively as he hurriedly pulled the zip across its track and pulled his heavy suitcase off his bed with one muscled tug. It landed onto the floor with a loud _thump_ and L fell forward onto the ground with it.

"_Welcome to Candyland, I'll split your ass in two_

_So take me by the hand_

_Lick it up, slide it down, and satisfy my sweet tooth_

_Welcome to Candyland_

_You wanna fuck me twice, I'll be your gingerbread man_

_First time naughty, and second time nice"_

L snatched the remote away from Mello's grip and flicked the sound system off. The song snapped off immediately, bringing the room into a tense silence. Mello's lips were tugging with a grin as he tried his best not to continue laughing.

There was a knock at the door. L groaned as he tore his gaze from Mello's and put the remote onto the glass coffee table. "Who on Earth would _that_ be? Nobody ordered pizza, did they?"

"Oh, right!" Gevanni clapped his hands together out of surprise. "I forgot to tell you guys, I told my nephew that he could come to America with us. His mother – my sister – kind of wants him out of the house and he has nowhere else to go, so I said I'd take care of him…" He trailed off, voice constricting as L's large, dark eyes gave him a glare that sent a notable shiver down his spine. "I was _gonna_ tell you guys, I swear!"

"When were you planning on bringing this up with the _rest_ of the band, _Steve?_" L dared to use Gevanni's shortened first name. He knew it drove him up the wall whenever it was mentioned. Apparently only his mother was allowed to call him that and 'Stevie'.

Gevanni's right eye twitched. "It's _Gevanni._" He grudgingly corrected. "And I already told you, I _was_ _going_ to bring it up, but I forgot about it! Plus, I've already booked his flight with us and he's already packed his bags, _and_ has already travelled by taxi _by himself_ from Southampton to the middle of Winchester _just_ so we can meet up."

"How _old_ is he?" Mello added in, curiously.

"He's fifteen." The moment Gevanni answered, the door was knocked on again.

"Is that him at the door?" L was fuming. His face and neck had gone bright red and Mello swore he could see steam coming out of his ears. "You should have told us earlier, this _so_ inconvenient, Gevanni!"

"_Geez_, your panties are in a twist, aren't they, L? You're never like this." Mello sighed. "Is this _all_ because of that contract with _Backup_?"

"_No_! I do _not_ wear 'panties' either, _Mihael, _for _Christ's_ sake! And even if I _were _wearing panties, they certainly would _not_ be twisted." L stormed towards the door as the person behind it began to knock again. He widely pulled it open, but nobody was there. "That's weird." He hummed.

As he went to close the door, Gevanni cleared his throat with an overly exaggerated grunt noise and a soft, new voice that was thicked over with monotone said;

"I'm down here."

L looked down accordingly to find a small boy that couldn't have been older than twelve. His hair was pure white and curly, his eyes were large and dark, and he had milk white skin. He was wearing a white hoody and faded skinny jeans, which too, were almost white. Not to mention that he was wearing white _Converses_ to match. In his arms, he had a giant brown teddy bear and next to him was a large black suitcase on wheels with a tall handle.

L felt his frustrations melt away as he looked at the small boy. This kid could _not_ be fifteen. Fifteen year olds were taller, weren't they? And they were greasy and unclean and they were not _pure_ looking, or even adorable! But Gevanni's nephew was absolutely, _positively_, the _cutest_ thing that L had even seen.

"Hello, L Lawliet. I am Nate River."

**Hmm, so what do you think of my personified Shinigamis'? Rem is a bit of an introvert and Ryuk is a bit of an extrovert but that's because of the way thatI saw them in the anime and manga, so I thought that it might keep them a **_**little bit**_** in character!**

**And I know that Justice's bit was extremely short compared to the other bits, but next chapter, they shall be first and full of… Near.**

**Thanks for the reviews and follows and I thank you for any future reviews and follows, too! ;D**


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